The trees grow beards
before your very eyes.
25 watt hotels
and you get a shock
from the banisters.
There must be an image,
I can’t find it,
only details that taken together
make spiritual obtuseness.
The bowel
is the murderer of man,
it is at rest,
keeps out of the picture,
but it knows all there is to be known
about the bearded hotels—
so much time, obtuse time.