"a latent choreography"

I refuse
To discriminate

Between different modes
Of knowing plainly knowing
As I do knowledge’s

Inadequacy, night in its lucidity
Floats unnoticed and
Sunlight returns to shout

Through the leaves, if I
Suffer I suffer only
From the abundances and find

That it is necessary
To disperse
The universe, for

Instance this morning
There was a mouse’s heart
Pulled anchor-like

From its belly to stretch
Across two cigarette butts trimming
The curb and I heard

A man singing down
The street just like he was
Singing down

The moon, I can’t separate
What sounds
Unreal from that

Which becomes that
Way through the
Telling of it, life always

Struggles with another kind of
Life and I am no longer
Interested in denying what I

Am not as every
Throw of the dice is finally
A winner, the afternoon

Drags saturnine in
Its blue, the guitar is interrogating
New love in its cheap black

Coffin and I perceive
The salutatory tones of the poet
Saying Welcome

Overboard dear
Friend for
Today the cemetery

Will unveil its public
Art and today
The silent plurality

Of senses event themselves
Unkempt within
The lining of winter’s

Unexpected quarter
And today I will walk frankly
Bestride the stoop-strewn

Brick with each chance
Furthering my enchantment
At life like

The woman on
The subway who looked exactly
Like a woman and yet

Also very much like
A cat, a fact
Which I found attractive

And worrisome simultaneously
As a man in cargo
Pants beckoned Zion arise and trim

Your beards, you see disequilibrium
Does not merely implicate
Systems, but mines into the fiction of all

Sullenly orbitless selves for
Even together two stomachs are not too
Much for thinking, you make tea

And it enters
Parts of you you never
Touch, a center

Is only a wish in the same
Way belief is only a placeholder
Amidst the poorer

Ideas, these idiot
Winds whirling
Without cease as I am living

A classically prenuptial
Life, I hope, lacking
Envy, the song says God

Bless those pretty women I wish
They were mine and it is
Not possible to pay too

Much homage
To space, the form of the
Body being a latent

Choreography of everything
A body does, a good
Movie stretches endlessly

In every place that it was and I think
There is no little connection