Title A Poem
1     A poem, made up of words.
      Where do these words come from?
      From the wood joints like termites, 
      From the May bush like blossoms,
5     From the fire like whistles,
      What falls to me, I take,
      To go against the grain,
      To couple it against nature,
      To shear it naked,
10    and wash in soapy water
      My word
      My dove, my stranger,
      Torn from my lips,
      Pulled from my breath,
15    Written in the wind-borne sand
      With its equals
      With its unequals
      Line for Line,
      My own wasteland
20    Line for Line
      My paradise.