MOONDARK

Here are two moondark presences.
A baldheaded aquifer indoors
cooled rust,
onioned air

over the stilled plug
though the moon ran
as a cool faucet
in league with the floor

by every short morning.
La, his feet froze
under the frypan,
your blue bucket

received its cold statue
in league with him as he lay
out of his clean pair of Dickies
and away from the door.

Then he spits on the frypan
without a rag,
then stands, narrow-necked.
with blackened teeth

and swollen elbows:
there are two presences
unrepeated; the soufflé deflating
with the hourglass tock.

Yet there are hatreds
as an electrician’s tong
rose before the shadow
of the cafeteria.

http://nobelprize.org/literature/laureates/1995/poems-1-e.html