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1. Guilty Of Dust up or down from the infinite C E N T E R B R I M M I N G at the winking rim of time The voice in my head said LOVE IS THE DISTANCE BETWEEN YOU AND WHAT YOU LOVE WHAT YOU LOVE IS YOUR FATE * Then I saw the parade of […]...
2. A newspaper is a collection of half-injustices A newspaper is a collection of half-injustices Which, bawled by boys from mile to mile, Spreads its curious opinion To a million merciful and sneering men, While families cuddle the joys of the fireside When spurred by tale of dire lone agony. A newspaper is a court Where every one is kindly and unfairly tried […]...
3. Georgic on Memory Make your daily monument the Ego, Use a masochist’s epistemology Of shame and dog-eared certainty That others less exacting might forgo. If memory’s an elephant, then feed The animal. Resist revision: the stand Of feral raspberry, contraband Fruit the crows stole, ferrying seed For miles… No. It was a broken hedge, Not beautiful, sunlight tacking […]...
4. Not Fear Not fear. Maybe, out there somewhere, The possibility of fear; the wall That might tumble down, because it’s for sure That behind it is the sea. Not fear. Fear has a countenance; It’s external, concrete, Like a rifle, a shot bolt, A suffering child, Like the darkness that’s hidden In every human mouth. Not fear. […]...
5. The Errand I’ve been going right on, page by page, Since we last kissed, two long dolls in a cage, Two hunger-mongers throwing a myth in and out, Double-crossing out lives with doubt, Leaving us separate now, fogy with rage. But then I’ve told my readers what I think And scrubbed out the remainder with my shrink, […]...
6. Visits To St. Elizabeths This is the house of Bedlam. This is the man That lies in the house of Bedlam. This is the time Of the tragic man That lies in the house of Bedlam. This is a wristwatch Telling the time Of the talkative man That lies in the house of Bedlam. This is a sailor Wearing […]...
7. To Thee, Old Cause! TO thee, old Cause! Thou peerless, passionate, good cause! Thou stern, remorseless, sweet Idea! Deathless throughout the ages, races, lands! After a strange, sad war-great war for thee, (I think all war through time was really fought, and ever will be really fought, for thee;) These chants for thee-the eternal march of thee. Thou orb […]...
8. Layover Making love in the sun, in the morning sun In a hotel room Above the alley Where poor men poke for bottles; Making love in the sun Making love by a carpet redder than our blood, Making love while the boys sell headlines And Cadillacs, Making love by a photograph of Paris And an open […]...
9. Fear Not God Or Love God is love and love is not Something you should fear. Respect love? Yes! Honour love? Yes! Embrace love? Yes! But fear love? No! For when you fear love you Fear life. And when you fear life what Do you have but death. Death of all that is good and pure And wonderful in the […]...
10. Buttons I HAVE been watching the war map slammed up for Advertising in front of the newspaper office. Buttons red and yellow buttons blue and black buttons Are shoved back and forth across the map. A laughing young man, sunny with freckles, Climbs a ladder, yells a joke to somebody in the crowd, And then fixes […]...
11. Days of 1986 He was believed by his peers to be an important poet, But his erotic obsession, condemned and strictly forbidden, Compromised his standing, and led to his ruin. Over sixty, and a father many times over, The objects of his attention grew younger and younger: He tried to corrupt the sons of his dearest friends; He […]...
12. These Things these things that we support most well Have nothing to do with up, And we do with them Out of boredom or fear or money Or cracked intelligence; Our circle and our candle of light Being small, So small we cannot bear it, We heave out with Idea And lose the Center: All wax without […]...
13. Soup I SAW a famous man eating soup. I say he was lifting a fat broth Into his mouth with a spoon. His name was in the newspapers that day Spelled out in tall black headlines And thousands of people were talking about him. When I saw him, He sat bending his head over a plate […]...
14. It was given to me by the Gods It was given to me by the Gods When I was a little Girl They given us Presents most you know When we are new and small. I kept it in my Hand I never put it down I did not dare to eat or sleep For fear it would be gone I heard such […]...
15. The Return of Frankenstein He didn’t die in the whirlpool by the mill Where he had fallen in after a wild chase By all the people of the town. Somehow he clung to an overhanging rock Until the villagers went away. And when he came out, he was changed forever, That soft heart of his had hardened And he […]...
16. His Confidence Undying love to buy I wrote upon The corners of this eye All wrongs done. What payment were enough For undying love? I broke my heart in two So hard I struck. What matter? for I know That out of rock, Out of a desolate source, Love leaps upon its course....
17. From Paumanok Starting FROM Paumanock starting, I fly like a bird, Around and around to soar, to sing the idea of all; To the north betaking myself, to sing there arctic songs, To Kanada, till I absorb Kanada in myself-to Michigan then, To Wisconsin, Iowa, Minnesota, to sing their songs, (they are inimitable;) Then to Ohio and Indiana […]...
18. Joys of the chase Colours fade into nameless shades of grey And where the tonsure of bas-relief crudely Stands effete, semantic symbolism degrades Into meaninglessness. The artefacts of an old Existence deny you humanity but you don’t Recognise them anyway, they are not bound To objects of power that belay access to reason. In this flat world of monochrome […]...
19. An old life Snow fell in the night. At five-fifteen I woke to a bluish Mounded softness where The Honda was. Cat fed and coffee made, I broomed snow off the car And drove to the Kearsarge Mini-Mart Before Amy opened To yank my Globe out of the bundle. Back, I set my cup of coffee Beside Jane, […]...
20. Problems 2 and 2 are 4. 4 and 4 are 8. But what would happen If the last 4 was late? And how would it be If one 2 was me? Or if the first 4 was you Divided by 2?...
21. Detachment As I go forth from fair to mart With racket ringing, Who would divine that in my heart Mad larks are singing. As I sweet sympathy express, Lest I should pain them, The money-mongers cannot guess How I disdain them. As I sit at some silly tea And flirt and flatter How I abhor society […]...
22. The World State Oh, how I love Humanity, With love so pure and pringlish, And how I hate the horrid French, Who never will be English! The International Idea, The largest and the clearest, Is welding all the nations now, Except the one that’s nearest. This compromise has long been known, This scheme of partial pardons, In ethical […]...
23. Sonnet XXXIX: Some, When in Rhyme Some, when in rhyme they of their loves do tell, With flames and lightnings their exordiums paint; Some call on Heav’n, some invocate on Hell, And Fates and Furies with their woes acquaint. Elysium is too high a seat for me; I will not come in Styx or Phlegethon; The thrice-three Muses but too wanton […]...
24. 64. Fragment of Song-"My Jean!&quot THO’ cruel fate should bid us part, Far as the pole and line, Her dear idea round my heart, Should tenderly entwine. Tho’ mountains, rise, and deserts howl, And oceans roar between; Yet, dearer than my deathless soul, I still would love my Jean....
25. Minerva Jones I am Minerva, the village poetess, Hooted at, jeered at by the Yahoos of the street For my heavy body, cock-eye, and rolling walk, And all the more when “Butch” Weldy Captured me after a brutal hunt. He left me to my fate with Doctor Meyers; And I sank into death, growing numb from the […]...
26. Further Instructions Come, my songs, let us express our baser passions. Let us express our envy for the man with a steady job and no worry about the future. You are very idle, my songs, I fear you will come to a bad end. You stand about the streets, You loiter at the corners and bus-stops, You […]...
27. Winter Promises Tomatoes rosy as perfect baby’s buttocks, Eggplants glossy as waxed fenders, Purple neon flawless glistening Peppers, pole beans fecund and fast Growing as Jack’s Viagra-sped stalk, Big as truck tire zinnias that mildew Will never wilt, roses weighing down A bush never touched by black spot, Brave little fruit trees shouldering up Their spotless ornaments […]...
28. Love & Fame & Death it sits outside my window now Like and old woman going to market; It sits and watches me, It sweats nevously Through wire and fog and dog-bark Until suddenly I slam the screen with a newspaper Like slapping at a fly And you could hear the scream Over this plain city, And then it left. […]...
29. In a lonely place In a lonely place, I encountered a sage Who sat, all still, Regarding a newspaper. He accosted me: “Sir, what is this?” Then I saw that I was greater, Aye, greater than this sage. I answered him at once, “Old, old man, it is the wisdom of the age.” The sage looked upon me with […]...
30. Shake The Superflux! I like walking on streets as black and wet as this one Now, at two in the solemnly musical morning, when everyone else In this town emptied of Lestrygonians and Lotus-eaters Is asleep or trying or worrying why They aren’t asleep, while unknown to them Ulysses walks Into the shabby apartment I live in, humming […]...
31. I Remember Galileo I remember Galileo describing the mind As a piece of paper blown around by the wind, And I loved the sight of it sticking to a tree, Or jumping into the backseat of a car, And for years I watched paper leap through my cities; But yesterday I saw the mind was a squirrel caught […]...
32. Forbidden Fruit all the forbidden fruit I ever Dreamt of or was taught to Resist and fear ripens and Blossoms under the palms of my Hands as they uncover and explore You and in the most secret Corners of my heart as it discovers And adores you the forbidden fruit Of forgiveness the forbidden fruit Of finally […]...
33. The grave my little cottage is The grave my little cottage is, Where “Keeping house” for thee I make my parlor orderly And lay the marble tea. For two divided, briefly, A cycle, it may be, Till everlasting life unite In strong society....
34. To Olivia I fear to love thee, Sweet, because Love’s the ambassador of loss; White flake of childhood, clinging so To my soiled raiment, thy shy snow At tenderest touch will shrink and go. Love me not, delightful child. My heart, by many snares beguiled, Has grown timorous and wild. It would fear thee not at all, […]...
35. Blustering God i Blustering God, Stamping across the sky With loud swagger, I fear You not. No, though from Your highest heaven You plunge Your spear at my heart, I fear You not. No, not if the blow Is as the lightning blasting a tree, I fear You not, puffing braggart. Ii If Thou canst see into […]...
36. Paper Men To Air Hopes And Fears The first speaker said Fear fire. Fear furnaces Incinerators, the city dump The faint scratch of a match. The second speaker said Fear water. Fear drenching rain Drizzle, oceans, puddles, a damp Day and the flush toilet. The third speaker said Fear wind. And it needn’t be A hurricane. Drafts, open Windows, electric fans. The […]...
37. Palladiums IN the newspaper office-who are the spooks? Who wears the mythic coat invisible? Who pussyfoots from desk to desk with a speaking forefinger? Who gumshoes amid the copy paper with a whispering thumb? Speak softly-the sacred cows may hear. Speak easy-the sacred cows must be fed....
38. To Make A Dadist Poem Take a newspaper. Take some scissors. Choose from this paper an article the length you want to make your poem. Cut out the article. Next carefully cut out each of the words that make up this article and put them all in a bag. Shake gently. Next take out each cutting one after the other. […]...
39. The Whipping The old woman across the way is whipping the boy again And shouting to the neighborhood her goodness and his wrongs. Wildly he crashes through elephant ears, pleads in dusty zinnias, While she in spite of crippling fat pursues and corners him. She strikes and strikes the shrilly circling boy till the stick breaks In […]...
40. On The Meeting Of García Lorca And Hart Crane Brooklyn, 1929. Of course Crane’s Been drinking and has no idea who This curious Andalusian is, unable Even to speak the language of poetry. The young man who brought them Together knows both Spanish and English, But he has a headache from jumping Back and forth from one language To another. For a moment’s relief […]...