Now the trees tempt
the young girl below them

In 1954, in June
I saw a total eclipse of the sun by the moon.
I saw the flowers fold up, the birds

If the generation wither

twinkling slinky, our of which

how should I

17 floors
above 8th Avenue
in an apartment in 1962

lumbering           logging           lonesome

             lugging

                                                            muggy weather

numbs my brain

                              Tonight the
                              light is
                              right

Up-and-down shafts of light brick
Lift occupants up into prisms or roofs
Of green copper, and then embark on the sky.

His Irish accent
He jumps you in the subway
I love you

Here I am, alone in my room, feeling lonely. 
Loneliness is horrible. This is an objective 
statement. Sometimes I think to objectify 

I write this for your eyes and ears and heart

If it makes your eyes sore

                                 ears weary