Rexroth's poems, not surprisingly, always have a rhythm, like this one's slow, dazed walk in the rain:
ConfusionThe Black Hawk in San Francisco, shown in the photo below, was the site of some of Rexroth's first jazz poetry experiments in the late 1950s.
I pass your home in a slow vermilion dawn,
The blinds are drawn, and the windows are open.
The soft breeze from the lake
Is like your breath upon my cheek.
All day long I walk in the intermittent rainfall.
I pick a vermilion tulip in the deserted park,
Bright raindrops cling to its petals.
At five o'clock it is a lonely color in the city.
I pass your home in a rainy evening,
I can see you faintly, moving between lighted walls.
Late at night I sit before a white sheet of paper,
Until a fallen vermilion petal quivers before me.
(Photograph by Leigh Wiener, from the Morrison Hotel Gallery.)