I am desolate in dimension
circling the sky
like a rainy bird,
wet from toe to crown
wet from bill to wing.
I feel like a drowned king
at the pomegranate circus.
I vowed last year
that I wouldn't go again
but here I sit in my usual seat,
dripping and clapping
as the pomegranates go by
in their metallic costumes.
December 25, 1966