Do I want to fuck
or eat?
No problem
There's a telephone.

Ignoring the Aristotelian notion of a beginning, middle and end, in the poem "Palmerston North," Creeley brings us to the meat of the poem, or, better yet, the heart of the matter, as only he does so well:

I know what you'd say
If I could ask you.
But I'm tired of it.
no word, nothing again

Creeley, the Black Mountain answer to the prose-poem, is most economical in describing the scene in New Zealand as well as the narrator's thoughts. Almost too good at times as the rhythm may make the poem move fast enough that a 2nd, 3rd or even 4th reading may be required to truly digest what he is saying. There's a ton of emotion here. Poems like "Wellington," "Love" and so forth at the beginning seem to capture, distill and preserve the moment. As well, the opening poems work as a unit. The poems—read together—form a context in which one gains a clearer picture of the whole self that is being evaluated, scorned, loved and calmed. At least the way I read it.