North Point North: New and Selected Poems

Hackett AvenueLeaves floating on the waterLike faces floating on the surface of a dream, On the surface of a swimming poolOnce the holocaust was complete.And then I passed through stages of beliefAnd unbelief, desire and restraint.Ad interim, until they began to seem quaintAnd I began to feel myself a victim of coincidence, Inhabiting a film whose real title was my name --Inhabiting a realm of fabulous constructionsMade entirely of words, all wordsUntil they meant whatever "I might mean.But they're just fragments really, No more than that.A coast away, And then across an ocean fifty years away, -- Bewitchment of intelligence by leaves -- A body floating clothed, facedown, A not-so-old philosopher dying in his bed-- At least I "thought I felt those things.But then the line went deadAnd I was back here in the cave, another ghostInhabiting the fourth part of the soulAnd waiting, and still waiting, for the sun to come up.Tell them I've had a wonderful life.Tell Mr. DeMille I'm ready for my close-up.---In ItalyFor Henri Cole1. Hotel Solferino I was somewhere else, then here. Somewhere else: call it an ideaLingering in the air like the faint smell of a rose Insensibly near; Or call it a small hotelTowards the end of Via Solferino, With a window open to the sunAnd the sounds of automobiles on the street below And adistant bell. Call it any time but now, Only call it unreal. In time's small room Whatever lies beyond its bordersCouldn't have been, like an imaginary perfume Nobody knows how To even dream of again.