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*Coolidge. Mesh. 1988. 39 pp.

There is an exploration here of a semi-pornographic imagination. The last poem, "Movement on a Dream," ends like this:

And she turns, I turn, the whole erotic is a
turning. Tends to the stillness of the obsessive,
never a blurring, however violent nondistortive, the
plates of the blends rising separable. That will I
defend myself against my own dreams? The girl caught in
the pool of thought covers whatever still of this
making own. The pearl in the skull never to be
exhausted. And I drape her more than
I bare her to me. All the movement still
my own.