“SELECTED LETTERS 1910-1944” AND A POSTCARD PANTOUM (New) by BBB

Last night lying on straw, a dream so beautiful:
his last letter to Gretchen, who urged him to leave.
In the dream, a sentence he couldn’t read
because a kerchief half-covered her knee,

he wrote Gretchen, who urged him to leave.
Tomorrow, he said, they would cross into Spain
(but the kerchief half-covered her knee)
if no one denounced them, if the guide came.

Tomorrow they’ll cross into Spain,
freedom, America, a white triangle of sail,
if no one denounced them, if the guide came.
Marking the page, a postcard, a painting:

a freeway, America, white triangle of sail.
“Well, this doesn’t do much for me”—
the painting on the card that marks my page—
the woman in the museum said into her phone.

“Well, this doesn’t do much for me—
am I getting you from something?”
in the museum she said to her phone.
Extend my sincere gratitude to Doctor P.

“Am I getting you from something?”
My personal situation is no better,
but my sincere gratitude to Doctor P.
When the letter reached her, he was dead.

My personal situation is no better.
Tell Teddy I’m working on the manuscript.
When the letter reached her, he was dead.
Complete uncertainty what the next month will bring.

Tell Teddy I’m working on the manuscript.
Last night lying on straw, a dream so beautiful.
Complete uncertainty what the next month will bring.
In his dream, a sentence he couldn’t read.