2.ii.22
761
3.33
each day enough
all others in
have wished thus far
ramshackle
like a life
enough!
we often make a warren of it
maze the pocket driftwood
and play it backwards over
blur where belongings are
folly of a folksy style
then teatime too
the generations of the day
lives saved lost
I say enough horror for
a gallop through some certain parts
sails filled, a muck about
no more required than these same selves
enough of the fire of the wind of the rain
the flag of tricks
we come to the tropics
day takes off
it’s cows come roosting home
all yonder
till dusk do us part
day of each enough
nor two the same but this
it has the pall of flowers past
and rises up an inch
then out
a little tomblight stills us
it’s all the voices of the gone
turn the world today
neither curtain nor a bow
each season to its own forever
dawn brings the scaffolded doom
no sensible animal sees
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