blight
Cappelbaum is in the living room
staring at the machine that makes words
his thoughts are the falling snow outside
"the way we're going I shall surely drown
thinks Cappelbaum
his mind now telescoped
like this he starts
like thi s h e starts
you're in a kitchen
with a woman
whose tone you're
having trouble
understanding
will she
a) pour hot porridge on your head
porridge not potpourri
head not had
pour and
wash out the sticky substance of shame
b) break a violin bow on your back
as you think
In the town where I was born
as you think about horsehair
Lived a man who sailed to sea
as you think of the smell of rosin
And he told us of his life
with a crack
In the land of submarines
& off to bed
& off to bed
c) throw a knife at your father
& hit you in the ankle
such a tender flower
she of the epithets
she of the buzzing hive
her flashing eyes
her floating hair
weave a circle round her thrice
for all you care
she so fragile
she so commanding
she o captain my captain my captain
"the devil is
in the details
thinks Cappelbaum
as he feeds himself
St. Joan's wort
poison ivy
potassium carbonate
mastication of ears
fears
the stack of sheets dwindles