to WCW (III)-

but here we are

looking at a self

portrait of a dutch

renaissance painter

let the rose petals blow

away in the tornado

of bombs dropping

the bombs are dropping

and we stand

in

the eye . . the pupil

how shall they ask

what needs to be asked?

where will they find the intersection of queen

anne’s lace blowing amongst all

whining

whining over dresden

and over camellia on the bridge

in selma and on fiftythree christ

opher st man

hatten

pull that red winter hat blue down

tight // the bombs

are falling // so are

the walls

and ⁅people⁆ are

dying every

day for the lack

of what

is found

there

no the verses are

full jupiter and

venus it is that

the people have

holes in

their sides

drilled by oil

rigs

it is the bombs

work

we are

hol(e)y

and leaking

calmly filling

the space

with rose scented

lysol airfreshener

pouring it in

orifice

mouths nostril

ear and pupil

the blessed pupil

Italicized lines are taken from the poetry of William Carlos Williams