;.cVernal Quadrant; Input from typescript
;.l1,6,60,66,1,0,10,75,192,2,15,20,25,127,10,0,
;.l2,15,75,192,2,20,25,127,15,0,
;.l3,20,75,192,2,25,127,20,0,
;.l4,25,75,192,2,127,25,0,
;.l5,30,75,192,2,127,30,0,
;.l6,12,90,192,2,18,24,127,12,1,
;.l7,17,125,192,2,26,35,127,17,2,
=po76

VERNAL QUADRANT

Input from typescrpt

.p
Deborah, like a brook

before we met
I rather expected you

                                       Deborah like a brook

through the day
echo of your tone
holds me straight

                                your name in my mind, many times

last night, alone
I would I heard you crying for me

                                               
                               miss you, many ways


                             touched iwth love
                             I do not recollect equal happiness
                             budding trees, hurry!


            try to find a gift
            that, fearing scared or lost
            you touch and say
            he's still there -- it's ok

.p



                      Muse, I have told my love to your mentors
                      Now let aggravation play
                      to dialectic irony

"bud the bushes nobly"
after the winter we thought might not end
why should I to Manhattan wend
in quest of dough
say CELIA would it so

   say that this age of evasion is a wasting time, 
   petty liberation decorating despair
   that neglected civility makes treacherous sand; 
   say existence' ontic needd (to make it) Form, 
   or that "one should not walk through a door backwards"

                 (Southern Crescent, 4/14/76, outside Providence)

---------------------                             

could we but rome enough in time
this coyness, Princess, should sublime
and every naked smile decry
thy long-time-gone propriety -----

.p
Haiku, to Deborah
                        
      Canute, that Nudnik

	what I task you for
	is charging our love
	to pause in flowing 

{The rest ain't good enough to retype}

*
I wrote this haiku
waiting for the light to change --
          Stop light's lot sharper. 



l2
{Comment:  the preceeding, I like.  A sort of Pound / Mainelaconic move.
My poetry, if it can be called such, is a matter ofcontrasted nuances, not of sound, nor images.   So that issomething of a new move; and that's why I'm bothering now totry to preserve it, by inputting.}
                                   
.p
Belmont exercise, after laid & Updike

Rabbit watches the flat-footed jogger
bubbied bobbling in her toga
paunchily ponders the balls of his feet
fleetingly up street
	asphalt over and loping down again
wonders whether the bite on a lung
	(winter track - snot freezing - Boston Arena filled withcoaches' smoke)
would break game again
driving on home
                    (Belmont reservoir, 4/29/76, 6 AM)

                               ]
-----------

Returns the cock at break of day
to under where he must away
so too from you my projects go
borne on 4 wheels, too much Hi-Po
a chilling fog it followed fast
as if to say, 'you silly ass
why woulds't from a warm bed run
to make your bread upon your bun

                  AS&E Coffee/Xerox Room, 4/29/76, 10 A.M.
-------



Challenge acrostic:  (YOUNG LOVE)

You'd really think they'd take more sleep
Our new-made friends; yet half-awake
Use yields to feel her old mystique:
Now every esoteric peak
Groans neath its new ekstatis freak.

Let sedentary homebodies
Order their hours like well-trained fleas
Venus wreathes when she will
E'en on weekdays as well

                     (AS&E Purchasing Dept', 2-4 P.M.



The poety notes wth apprehension that his mistress has, fsroman anthology, marked only those poems toucing on sorry.

       "Cry baby, cry
        Make your mother sigh ---- 
                    Beattles

My bitterness could shield me, dear
shut out once more from love in fear
to whistle while I work my rope of days,
while having spun that drear tomorrow
your decent passion mould to sorrow
as all those propped-up myths do fall
once you've been herded to your wall
and cardboard soldiers sigh derision
(Mom Pop & Sibling, in your vision)
	Yet would you rather hear of hope
	Come, get your ass in gear, you dope!

                           4/29/76; rev. 8/13/76.

.p
5-7-5's on getting a bit of the old "Dear John"

the sense of it all
presumably contrast with
a lump in my throat

pakcing my crap for
a weekend with another --
oh, how we planned it

beware bad habits:
reaching a fork in your road
they're prone to ambush

how to keep in straight
sone thoughts are clear as water
some shriek like heat-rash

                               Belmont, 7/21/76

.p
odd Harlequin

'Pierette won't take him seriously:
that bothers Dr. Harlequin
she's waiting for some heeled Pierrot, no doubt
what does he know

Each summer Pierettes come and go
waiting a-mazed'd for their Pierrot
Dropout Harlequin yields half his bed
bustles up nuptials & sees she's fled
                                          7/76


-----------

*Though a great storm pass
and the soft sun shine again
broken limbs lie on the ground

                  8/10/76, before 11 A.M.

------------
	
riding with a friend
brightly reminisce of you
as if it were dead
                  8/76
                       
------------------

she's on an airplane
waning moon through nimbus clouds
wood smoke in the air

                Labor Day, 1976

------------------

one more "please don't come"
calm as a widower
I talk to her friend
                 11/17
                  
-----------------

open your letter
with trembling hand; my heart thaws:
'nother cold winter

.p


Fragments & unfinished poems

"In one pulse of the moon, Jane
 you filled my heart and fled";
 from vernal equinox to solstice
 Deborah rectified my bed
	a mother's tearfully phoned barrage
	whle papa pinched in Mastercharge
{etc.  Quite a bit of self-pity}

------------

Poet on the verge of learning to bowl candlepins

	but what of the sins against lovers
	and what shall I do with this rage

-----------
Upon seeing Debby's jello in July

Your Jello sits still in my freezer
(would but holding you were easier)
flow to me, don' be a teaser
lovely as Strawberry Jello.
 
You got not your shit nor your jello together
this clearing up leftovers's rather a bother
discords of lemon-lime Jello.

I made you in March and you made it in June
like us, it fell apart too soon
fragile as transparent jello.

The jello makes believe it's frigid
in its stainless steel bowl (rigid)
feel you not that old urge idge yet?
trembling as uneaten jello.

	Your jello spirals down the drain
	oh all those goodies I bought you in vain.


l3
{Comment:  Could have the makings of something.  As yet,it holds together no better than that jello.
l1

N.B.:  Apollinaire is Sous le pont Mirabeau coule la Seine
"ni temps pase, ni les amours revienne
sous le pont Mirabeau soule la Seine.

.p
Imitation:  Celia, Lesibia ... plus quam ae atque suos amuit omnes
I grieve yearningly toward both out souls

Celia, Catulus
longed for you as for his soul
[I] Yearn as you for yours.  

{Comment:  The 5-7-5 constraint cramps the last line.}

.p
The poet declines to betake himself to be slung out along the Elinto darkest Roxbury

I'll make more money
staying at home reading
winter day silver
     
                2/17/77
---------------


Againg Angry YOug Man:
		to Sue, over sherry

Youwere raised Jewish
I chose each pyramid stp
to meet you took time
                   2/19/77

springtime approaching
leaves of the iris turned brown
the street where you lived
                  1 March 77
                 

slush headlights; friend calls
to say, comme un condamne
-- married, yesterday
                   12/19/77

l2
{Comment:
 Damit Debby, I'm
 typing now & it's 20 years gone by;
 why?
		   12/15/97, Kibbutz HaOn
-----------------
l1

A hippy writes to a JAP:

Dear precious fish:  `twere rather dumb
to make you bod' get lugged back home
by grumbling Pa' familias sped
from repertory theatre bed
and as a dollhouse marionette
to be your pop's unwanted pet
while encloseted mamas turns pimp's moll
and tricks you out as plastic doll.
	You learned to blow and nearly screw
     plus various extras bunnies know

soeur de mon ame de doeur, aDieu.

                                     6/76
      
{Comment:  I don't think I'd deem this worth typing, had I notjust read that Updike published his 18th book.}