"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"

In this world
we walk on the roof of hell,
gazing at flowers.

The moon tonight--
I even miss
her grumbling.

The man pulling radishes
pointed my way
with a radish.

Face of the spring moon--
about twelve years old,
I'd say.

Writing **** about new snow
for the rich
is not art.

******* in the snow
outside my door--
it makes a very straight hole.

Napping at midday
I hear the song of rice planters
and feel ashamed of myself.

Don't worry, spiders,
I keep house
casually.