In New England the equipmental quality
of equipment was discovered, the
cleaning lady was deported, ants invade
the attic and this is sad.

There is no Bronx River Expressway
there are single beds and shutters and
rafters and a flash of lightning in the sky.

There are thoughts like Old World, New World,
Bank Vault and Whale.

Happiness is a battering ram of one if by land
two if by tiptoe, three if by a haunted house
intrepid in its scholars, o’wearied in its deep.