When I divide I get no thinner. It does not help me to get out.

Time slides by, thick as a dirty river. So am I . . . bridge and both banks— people crossing—crates in the brown stream passing under . . .

Lou. Lou. What do I remember? do I remember my protesting? Do I see the self I had? see Tabor now? the boots throw up their image? What do I remember—honestly. No, that won’t do—not right. I’m such an easy fool? Dreams grip me. Wait—not right. What do dreams do? do dreams grip? . . . grip? . . . grip who? I had a figure in a dream, the dream gripped, I remember. On my page the light is drying. The letters themselves seem to fade. My own marks move inside themselves, away from me. I look up and find the window’s gray. Well, there’s always the bright electric. Toward whose shore slides an ocean of cloud? And I remember only what I dare to . . . titles on the dimming spines of books. What really remains to me? a hand on my desk, dark and loose as a glove? these reveries? O dreams wind, envelop, wrap up, compass, cloud, close down upon, blot out, fog in. Don’t they? they and their illusions? I’m not certain. Tabor does not disappear: there’s the glisten of my wedding ring, the pale face of the paper . . . Suppose I were signing warrants? would that be any more real? Lists, names, numbers . . . numbers for the futureless . . . fragments, titles,

William Frederick Kohler

wounds. And are these objects any more than sensory consignments, shipments

William F. Kohler

of shop goods?

W. F. Kohler

W. F. K. The truck was making for an open ditch;

oKk the doors were opened, and the corpses

Bill Kohler were thrown out, just as though they

Billy Boy were alive, to smooth win their limbs.

Will K.

. . . so smooth were their limbs . . . like marble, I suppose—they always are.

Kay

had a figure in a dream, the dream gripped, I remember.

Wilfred Koh

Whiff Cough They were hurled into the ditch, and I

Whiffy can still see a civilian extracting teeth

Willko with tooth pliers. And then I was away—

Herr Rickler

And by inventing pliers, prevent speech. Excellent. Excel— No. Wait. Wait.

413-012

287-30-5088 I jumped into my car and did not open

896-7707 Ext. 3311 my mouth again.

3708 015575 21009

No. I don’t know. O shit shit shit I’m not certain. No heart should hold its blood like a cup.