they met and made love on the edge of a bed to the cheers of thirty
christmas tree vandals the newspaper said
when he got up and buttoned his pants his father’s face was red
mistresses are customary in aristocratic circles
mistresses are customary in aristocratic circles she thought while
watching him make a thick rice soup
such harmony of hands and knee
ate homemade chocolate balls with you remember
his straw hat with pipe at the typewriter noted: a load of buckshot
banged in front of his toes a blackbird dropped from the tree down
into the ravine
through narrow alleys to the landing up the stairs rest on the landings
look up across roofs and chimneys at the cluster of trees at
the end of the stairs follow the gravel-strewn icy asphalt up to the
niche in the archway under the cable car and back of it on the left
open the gate in the fence with the mailbox laden with significance
and once you’ve closed the squeaking hinges sneak around the
corner and enter by the back door
such harmony of hands and knee
mistresses are customary in aristocratic circles she thought when
she saw him put the letter in his pants pocket
when he got up from the edge of the bed his father’s face was pink
you know how to make rice soup he said
at the time the newspaper said christmas tree vandals
i love eating the rice soup you make in every respect a man
such harmony of hands and knee
your friends her ladyship the countess as noble as they were stupid
slept in the coffins and the pallor of your hair bleached to white heat
their knights-of-the-holy-grail-breath fabled into rings
when she left he stood there in slippers and words and teddy the
dog was waiting for her by the fence gate’s squeaking hinges
her room in winter a shovel of coal two briquettes and clean out
the ashes already again the heat so fully absorbed the stove two
degrees centigrade instead of four
hello . . . yes with you . . . yes father . . . yes sauerkraut . . . yes . . . in
an hour . . . yes photos . . . mistresses are customary in aristocratic
circles and buttoned his pants
held on to his suit and a cane with silver handle instead of his
glasses: forcibly and in anger pushed under his own bed
such harmony of hands and knee