my eyes are fond of the east side
as i lie asleep my eyes go into Allen street the dark long cool tunnel
of raving colour,on either side the windows are packed with hardslippery
greens and helplessbaby blues and stic-ky chromes and prettylemons and
virginal pinks and wealthy vermilion and breathless-scarlet,dark colours
like ’cellos keen fiddling colours colours cOOler than harps colours
p r i c k i n glike piccolos thumPing colours like a bangofpiano colours
which,are,the,flowery pluckings of a harpsichord colours of Pure percus-
sion colours-like-trumpets they(writhe they,struggleinweird chords of
humorous,fury heapingandsqueezing tum-bling-scratchingcrowd ingworming
each by screeching Each)on either side the street’s DarkcOOllinGBody
windows,are. clenched. fistsoftint.
if sometimes my eyes stay at home
then my mouth will go out into the East side,my mouth goes to the peddlers,
to the peddlers of smooth,fruits of eager colours of the little,huddling
nuts and the bad candies my,mouth loves melons slitted with bright knives,
it stains itself, with currants and cherries it (swallow s bun chesofnew
grapes likeGree n A r e b u b b l e s asc end-ing inthecarts my,mouth
is,fond of tiny plums of tangerines and apples it will,Gorge indistinct
palishflesh of laZilytas tingg OO seberries,it,loves these better than,
cubesandovalsof sweetness but it swallow) s greedily sugaredellipses it
does not disdain picKles,once,it,ate a scarlet pepper and my eyes were
buttoned with pain
is there anything my ears love it’s
to go into the east Side in a. dark street a hurDygurdY with thequeer
hopping ghosts of children. my,ears know the fuZZy tune that’s played
by the Funny hand of the paralyticwhose dod d e rin g partner whEEl
shi min chb yi nch along the whirlingPeaceful furious street people
drop,coppers into,the littletin-cup His wrappedupbody Queerly Has,my,
ears,go into Hassan’s place the kanoonchir p ing the bigtwittering
zither-and the mealy,ladies dancing thicklyfoolish,with,the,tam,bou,
rine,s And the violin spitting squeakysongs into the cuspidor-col our-
edRoom and,my ears bend to the little silent handorgan propping the
curve of the tiny motheaten old manwhose Beard rests.onthetopwhose
silly,Hand revolves,perfectly,slowlywith,the handle ofa crankin It
The L’s roar tortures-pleasantly myears it is,like the,Jab:of a dark
tool. With a cleverjeRk in itlike the motionofa Sharp Knife-sN ap-
pingof fadeadf ish’ shead Or,the whipping of a blackSnake cu tSudden ly
in 2 that,writhes...A.lit.tleora basket of RipeBlackbeRRies emptied
suddenl (y down the squirming sPine of the)unsuspecting street;
—;i Like to
Lie On My Couch at Christopher Street For my stomach goes out into The
east side my sex sitting upright on the stomach like A billiken with
hisknees huggedtogether it,goes out into the rapid hard women and
intotheslow hot women my Stomach ruBSiTSElf kew-re-ous-ly a mong
Them(among their stomachs andtheir sexes )stomachsofold pe o plelLike
hideous vegetables weazEned with-being-put-too-long in windows and
never sold and couldn’t-be-given-away because Who?wanted them,stom-
achslikEDead fishe s s olemnandputrid vast,stomachs bLurting and
cHuckling like uninteresting-landscapes made interesting by earTHQuake
empty stomachsClenche Dtothe beautiful-curveofhunger, cHuBbY stomachs
which have not,known other stomachs and their Sexis a Lone ly,flower
whose secretloveliness hur.ts itse;l.f to no-thing signifi-cant
stomachs:Who carry-tadpole!s,stomachs of little,girls smoothanduseless
i,like,best,the,stomachs,of the young (girls silky and lewd)like corn
s l e n derl y tottering in sun-light

nobody(knows and WhoEver would)?dance lewd dollies pretty and putrid
dollies of-love-and-of-death dollies of perfect life,

dollies of anyway