She thinks in a smaller hospital She would remember each face With some embarrassment She can remember all the rooms

1421 From whose eaves pigeons tumble Its permanent winter of shit Where she would like to put a thin strip of suspended garden Something in love with guano like hay Some ruffling infancy of color

707 Where a couple lay in bed, one sick The two now faceless in ozone hoods The room wore its stretch of curtain Tight and broad like a bandeau in June Unspeakable honeymoon Ringing for ginger ale all the time

1603 With its own sitting room A surplus of telephones One almost expects a little home bar Silver shakers a cigarette tray

707 Where a couple lay in bed —was the smaller one sick Is that just farm logic— Its stretch of green curtain Smooth and stiff like a banker’s lamp Amortizing a fixed account

830 She thinks somehow she belongs there Its shadows and somnolence appeal to her The clock runs behind The television sometimes stuck on a Mass Just its own digestion Plasma and diode It is what she will ask for when sick

1118 Snow falls to water The nurse’s badge Clicks on the bed rail with a bell’s tread The green fixtures spell nausea Like a lighthouse one sees the swing Begin before the beam’s upon

516 Surely the face here— It forms then jumps Pocket magnet startled By breathing She grasps it and it changes Faster than tadpoles She shoves it And it will not grimace Long enough to keep