harder perhaps than a newengland bed
these ends of arms which pinch that purple book
between what hands had been before they died
squirming:now withered and unself her gnarled
vomits a rock of mindscream into life;
possibly darker than a spinster’s heart
my voice feels who inquires is your cough
better today?nn-nn went head face goes
(if how begins a pillow’s green means face
or why a quilt’s pink stops might equal head).
Then with the splendor of an angel’s fart
came one trembling out of huge each eye look
“thank you”’ nicely the lady’s small grin said
(with more simplicity than makes a world)