“Buffalo Bill's defunct who used to ride a watersmooth-silver stallion and break onetwothreefourfive pigeonsjustlikethat Jesus he was a handsome man and what i want to know is how do you like your blueeyed boyMister Death”

“All in green went my love of riding on a great horse of gold into the silver dawn.”

“the other guineahendied of a broken heart and we came to New York.I used to sit at a table,drawing wingswith a pencil that kept breaking and i keptremembering how your mind looked when it sleptfor several years,to wake up asking why.So then you turned into a photographof somebody who’s trying not to laughat somebody who’s trying not to cry”

“i do not know what it is about you that closesand opens;only something in me understandsthe voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses”

“i like my body when it is with yourbody. It is so quite new a thing.Muscles better and nerves more.i like your body. i like what it does,i like its hows. i like to feel the spineof your body and its bones, and the trembling-firm-smooth ness and which i willagain and again and againkiss, i like kissing this and that of you,i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzzof your electric fur, and what-is-it comesover parting flesh ... And eyes big love-crumbs,and possibly i like the thrillof under me you so quite new.”

“nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals the power of your intense fragility:whose texture compels me with the colour of its countries, rendering death and forever with each breathing (i do not know what it is about you that closes and opens;only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses) nobody,not even the rain, has such small hands-excerpt of #35 from "100 Selected Poems”

“(i do not know what it is about you that closesand opens;only something in me understandsthe voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands”