The Painter Saw What Was, An Alternate

We Control The Content Of Our Dreams.

I Was At A Benefit For Some Imprisoned Students In The '60s At San Francisco State, And There Were Lots Of Poets Reading For The Benefit: One Was Elizabeth Bishop.

We Tend To Put Poems Into Factions. And It Restricts Our Reading.

As If Hands Were Enough To Hold An Avalanche Off.

How Sociable The Garden Was. We Ate And Talked In Given Light. The Children Put Their Toys To Grass All The Warm Wakeful August Night.