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O dear sweet rosy 
     unattainable desire 
...how sad, no way 
     to change the mad 
cultivated asphodel, the 
     visible reality... 

and skin's appalling 
     petals--how inspired 
to be so Iying in the living 
     room drunk naked 
and dreaming, in the absence 
     of electricity... 
over and over eating the low root 
     of the asphodel, 
gray fate... 

     rolling in generation 
on the flowery couch 
     as on a bank in Arden-- 
my only rose tonite's the treat 
     of my own nudity. 

                         Fall, 1953

Added: 25 Mar 2002 | Last Read: 21 Mar 2010 9:54 PM | Viewed: 5048 times

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