Snow's field sweep,
painting
without a frame.

It has no glass.
Unlike you, I can feel
its actual hands.

All is full of love.
But, of brevity,
fuller.

The steam from a teakettle.
To be in love with one's own name!

Funny sort of locomotive!

Must go. Cannot explain.
The sadness is on the table.
I left you as much as half
of everything I own.
Maybe more.
Spend it how you like.
I know you will anyway.
This is no joke.
The marriage painting is fixed.
The key is under
your lover's pillow.
Tell the cat
Vive La France for me.