(2) Compute the means and statistics for each category.

Pollen. Blood.
The smell of green.

(1) Define the categories.

A bitter field guide, laced
with dried leaves and pencil notes
from your botanical past.

The sudden eruption in El Pinacate

To go from contact lenses,
miracles of tiny vision,
to the blunt, thick glasses
my traitor sight requires,
I would need to think
one of two things: that soon
I will be taken hostage,

Hong Kong buses:
damp shiny
layers of people.

I exchange money
for a pass,
paper bits of strange.

An island is not
like any
other type of ground.

When you drive between

wool-wrapped and swollen
that must snap
smartly, like a mousetrap,

I drop my sounder line, reaching
water hundreds of feet
below mine.

I don't doubt the little mice

My mathematical eye
sees the quark trinity
as a permament scramble of waves.

My hand sees fundamental charge.
My heart sees
the atom of hydrogen, excited

too far, electron lept out

Her valley shudders flat.
Her animals escape.
They scream into the morning.
They scramble past the oaks.
Her house bends its knees.
Her knees scrape the kitchen.
The oaks throw her bark-flesh.

My body slides the long snake road, in halting rain fueled starts
toward the river's birth-place into Something Else, the estuary.
We knocked our boats onto the golden sand of sideways jungles;

when they leave the reich;
please and thank you melt
into a la puta, que le vaya
bien and don't get me started
on the Russian immigrants,
who gut-laugh because kishkas

An ex-soldier who wishes
to remain anonymous
(let's call him Vasily Ivanovitch)
has not washed his socks for a month.
He had enough to last the desert

I'm going to quitobaquito springs
in the back of a truck I'm going
to leave needles in my wake
saguaro priests crowd this dirt road
arms skyward heads crowned
by deathbirds I think the finger

I found your Himalayan chronology
online: a comprehensive set of cores
from a popular ski area in Kashmir.
I know you were there in 1973
and you felt the improbable stay

A wall. It surrounds
chemical
prosperity, gone.

Official warnings,
barbed wire. Brave
mothers draw pictures.

Your hands are Quakers,
calloused, noble in sunlight, quiet together.
Mine keep a wild creed. Even in vigil
they wander; blind, anchored to the body
in roots of wrist; their souls feed

That bar-girl in the nuzzling sweater
left the house this morning -- flooded
the basement first; she broke
a pipe trying to turn off the mains.
She threw away her wrenches, put on