6. Upon her dress she has a body


Woman’s body is as bumpy as my skull
If you become flesh with spirit

Couturiers ply a sottish trade
As much as phrenology
My eyes are kilos weighing women’s sensuality


All that flees, sallies forth into depth
Stars hollow out the sky
Colors disrobe

“Upon her dress she has a body”

Under her arms heathers hands lunulæ and pistils when waters

     pour out in her back with glaucous shoulder blades
Her belly a disk that moves
The double hull of her breasts passes under the bridge of   


The perpendicular cries of colors fall upon her thighs

“Sword of Saint Michael”


There are hands held out

There are in her train the beast all eyes all fanfares all habitués  

     of Bullier’s Ballroom
And upon her hip
The signature of the poet


February 1914.