No other song
or swoop (part
quiver, part swivel and
plash) with
tour de force
stray the course note
liquefactions
(its new,
bawdy air an
aria hangs in) en-
thralls,
trills, loops, soars,
startles, out-warbles,
out-brawns, more
juicily,
lifts up
the dawn, outlaws from
sackcloth, the cool
sloth of bed sheets,
from pillows
and silks
and blue-quilted, feminine
bolsters, fusses
of coverlets;
nips as the switch
of a juvenile willow, fuzz
of a nettle, to
window and window
and window and ever
toward egress, to
flurry, pollen
and petal shed,
to wet street
and wet pavement,
all sentiment intemperate,
all sentience
ephemeral.