By William Benton

They spin like nonsense


and come apart. Men talked

to her at an angle,


thin as reflections during the afternoon.


The blistered drums deprive the momentum

of its comic inertia. A door shuts


and disappears; invisible, innocent,

always a wall.


William Benton received his early training in music, and worked as a jazz musician before becoming a writer.  He is the author of several books of poetry, including Marmalade, Normal Meanings, Eye La View, Birds, and The Bell Poems.  His poetry has been published in The New Yorker, The Paris Review, Open City, and other magazines.  He is also the author of Exchanging Hats, a book on the paintings of Elizabeth Bishop, and a novel, Madly.  He lives in New York City.

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