Is the governor falling br From a great height? br Arm in arm we fled the brassiere factory, br The motion-boat stayed on the shore! br I saw how round its bottom was br As you walked into southern France— br Upon the light hair of an arm br Cigar bands lay! br I kissed you then. Oh is my bar br The insect of your will? The water rose, br But will the buffalo on br The nickel yet be still? br For how can windows hold out the light br In your eyes! br Darling, we fled the brassiere factory br In forty-eight states, br Arm in arm, br When human beings hung on us br And you had been arrested by the cloths br Were used in making, and I said, “The Goths br Know such delight,” but still we fled, away br Into a dinner atmosphere br From all we knew, and fall asleep this day. br O maintenance men, with cruel eyes, br Then arm in arm we fled the listless factory! br The music changed your fingers’ ends to pearl, br I punched you, you foolish girl, br For thanks to the metronome we got out alive, in the air br Where the sun filled us with cruelty! br There’s what to do br Except despair, like pages! and laugh br Like prawns, about the sea! br Oh arm in arm we fled the industry br Into an earth of banks br And foolish tanks, for what bare breasts might be. br br br “The Brassiere Factory” from The Collected Poems of Kenneth Koch, published by Alfred A. Knopf, Inc. Copyright © 2006 by Kenneth Koch.