To the Sound of Late

for Philip Whalen

I was thinking we might
care today about the confusing land/
the weather/ a cemetery
The dollhouse made at the
beginning of the century -- for breakfast, your dream
tries to be too hard
Would you not
give me 17cents to bury
the idols you have collected
The deceiving here or not or priests
and their death
Over again
Over again
Coming around carrying in the taxis,
I said a mouth shutting to you
that I might love
until I find the old moon
and give to you
the shimmering of some colors
on Russia