April is the cruelest month
to try to attach words to a page
they all want to be out and read
upon some bright and sunny stage

Mine are in revolt today, and say

Do not tell us
of the wonders of being in Times Roman
or that New York is nice in the spring
That Geneva has gold aplenty
that Monaco is a thrill
or the charm of Italic leaning towers

There is time enough in winter
to lie on and between the white sheets

Even then we wish at times
so badly to be heard
that we would if we could
press down so hard as to come
through to the other side of this page
and through the cover too
just to get to you