A MOMENT ON THE WAY

Passing the house
Where she'd have lived
If she'd taken another road

A FEW INSTRUCTIONS

 

When you wake up 

Look in a mirror and say

"I am no shadow" 

Until you believe it.

Next, gather substance.

Stand without flickering.

Remember not to change size

Too radically.  Hire servants --

You'll need at least four: one

To attend you outdoors; one

To appear by artificial light; one

To be invisible to all but you; the last

You must not acknowledge

When you meet again.

LAMB'S CONDUIT FIELDS

 

At Captain Thomas Coram's Foundling Hospital

There was a side entrance for desperate folk

To leave infants, often with notes or tokens --

A blanket, a toy, a bright bead, some coral.

One morning they found one, small and sick,

Wrapped in a basket with a letter pinned

To his blanket saying "This is Death. Please

Take care of him. I'll come back 

If things ever go better for Me."

BAGHDAD AND CHESS

 

"In Baghdad a thousand years ago," I told the ghost

Of my grandfather Joe, "well-advised men were not

Blacksmiths, butchers, conjurors, policemen,

Night watchmen, dung collectors, tanners,

Bathhouse stokers, makers of women's shoes,

Well diggers, masseurs, pigeon racers or chess players."

"Better-advised men," he said, "left Baghdad

And played chess in peace."

SPARAFUCILE'S COMPLAINT

 

In my career, says Sparafucile, I fulfilled the terms

Of almost every contract. Hire me and your worries

Were gone or replaced at least by ones more interesting;

You could go right home and start thinking

About what to wear to your enemy's funeral.

Really, I was that good. Killing the Duke

Was nothing special for me; I'd killed kings!

I gave Rigoletto a bargain price; I liked him

And yes, I know that I mistook a slender soprano

For a bulky tenor but it was dark and she, remember,

Was trying to fool me. You'd think there'd be operas

About the many times I killed the right victim

But no -- there's not even a poem.

HATS

 

In the picture it is late 1955 and you

Have on an admirable fake-leather hat

With earflaps which I thought

Fairly marked your status as

A seven year old and the oldest

Of us. At half-past three

I, having no say about my headgear,

Wear a shapeless wool thing

Made by an aunt who'd obviously

Accepted her sister's dare

To shut her eyes and knit a hat

While wearing boxing gloves.

RESURRECTIONS

An angel -- not one of the major ones but still

Powerful and scary -- having read a copy of

Harris' Guide to the Ladies of Covent-Garden

For the Year of Our Lord 1790, asks your help 

Reviving all of the ninety-one women listed there

From wise Miss Allan ("middle-sized," "dark eyes and hair")

To careless Miss York ("fair complexion and full eyes ... 

Vibrates even her feet to the motion of every fiddle").

You supply the craft while he draws upon 

His account with The Illimitable Grace of God.

You've not much to work from - smart grey eyes,

Melting blue eyes, strange green eyes

That are small or big or shrewd. A willingness

To use a whip. A willingness to be whipped.

A reluctance to swear. Traces of a good education.

Expects five pounds and five shillings for the night.

Charges a guinea. Charges a half guinea.

Takes whatever's offered and is glad of it.

Has a temper. An accent. A scar. A sister. A sad story.

Bodies. Teeth. Legs. Bosoms. Breath.

The work is extremely challenging -- 

Exactly what shade is "melting blue?" Just how tall

Is "middling sized?" You can't believe how long it takes

To get the shadows right! -- but you bring them back.

Not one of them thanks you and the angel

When you ask for a favor says there are limits

Even to The Illimitable Grace of God.