With A Man I’Ve Never Known

Why haven’t you written the most beautiful eulogies,
If your senses are so impaired: why only essays and religious
Treatises
Making the same wages of your pronged love as an airplane
Pilot flicking ash over the green pools,
Because down in those whirling machines they are washing
Angels,
And little girls who have skipped school and are hanging out
In their effluvious surplices
Dreaming of unborn sons in the eyes of the intelligence of
Fish that can see behind the curtains of this stage,
Because that is where you are my darling, head being hooded
By a veil of snow,
Like at your wedding, making out and swimming with a man I’ve
Never known.