Home ⇒ 📌David Lehman ⇒ March 30
March 30
Eighty-one degrees a record high for the day
Which is not my birthday but will do until
The eleventh of June comes around and I know
What I want: a wide-brimmed Panama hat
With a tan hatband, a walk in the park
And to share a shower with a zaftig beauty
Who lost her Bronx accent in Bronxville
And now wants me to give her back her virginity
So she slinks into my office and sits on the desk
And I, to describe her posture and pose,
Will trade my Blake (the lineaments of a gratified
Desire) for your Herrick (the liquefaction of
Her clothes) though it isn’t my birthday and
We’re not still in college it’s just a cup of coffee
And a joint the hottest thirtieth of March I’ve ever
(1 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)
Related poetry:
- Several Questions Answered What is it men in women do require? The lineaments of Gratified Desire. What is it women do in men require? The lineaments of Gratified Desire. The look of love alarms Because ’tis fill’d with fire; But the look of soft deceit Shall Win the lover’s hire. Soft Deceit & Idleness, These are Beauty’s sweetest […]...
- Dear March Come in Dear March Come in How glad I am I hoped for you before Put down your Hat You must have walked How out of Breath you are Dear March, Come right up the stairs with me I have so much to tell I got your Letter, and the Birds The Maples never knew that you […]...
- UPON JULIA'S CLOTHES Whenas in silks my Julia goes, Till, then, methinks, how sweetly flows That liquefaction of her clothes! Next, when I cast mine eyes, and see That brave vibration each way free; O how that glittering taketh...
- Men Who March Away Song of the Soldiers What of the faith and fire within us Men who march away Ere the barn-cocks say Night is growing gray, To hazards whence no tears can win us; What of the faith and fire within us Men who march away! Is it a purblind prank, O think you, Friend with the […]...
- My Little March Girl Come to the pane, draw the curtain apart, There she is passing, the girl of my heart; See where she walks like a queen in the street, Weather-defying, calm, placid and sweet. Tripping along with impetuous grace, Joy of her life beaming out of her face, Tresses all truant-like, curl upon curl, Wind-blown and rosy, […]...
- March Slayer of the winter, art thou here again? O welcome, thou that’s bring’st the summer nigh! The bitter wind makes not thy victory vain, Nor will we mock thee for thy faint blue sky. Welcome, O March! whose kindly days and dry Make April ready for the throstle’s song, Thou first redresser of the winter’s […]...
- I Said Coffee I said coffee I didn’t say, “would you Like to cup My warm Soft breasts In your Un-calloused, Long, Tapered, Ring less fingered Hands?” I said coffee I didn’t say, “would you Like to Run your tongue Along my neck Just below My left ear-lobe?” I said coffee I didn’t say, “would you Like to […]...
- We like March We like March. His Shoes are Purple He is new and high Makes he Mud for Dog and Peddler. Makes he Forests dry. Knows the Adder Tongue his coming And presents her Spot Stands the Sun so close and mighty That our Minds are hot. News is he of all the others Bold it were […]...
- March is the Month of Expectation March is the Month of Expectation. The things we do not know The Persons of prognostication Are coming now We try to show becoming firmness But pompous Joy Betrays us, as his first Betrothal Betrays a Boy....
- Cocoon For A Skeleton Clothes: to compose The furtive, lone Pillar of bone To some repose. To let hands shirk Utterance behind A pocket’s blind Deceptive smirk. To mask, belie The undue haste Of breast for breast Or thigh for thigh. To screen, conserve The pose, when death Half strips the sheath And leaves the nerve. To edit, glose […]...
- Doughnut denial (an ascetic poem for karen’s birthday) Fancy having a birthday on a thursday When you do the buying of the doughnuts And others lick their sticky fingers Thinking good old karen letting Us share the eating of her birthday Not me of course – i sit at home (alone) Reflecting it is purification day Today […]...
- It Is March It is March and black dust falls out of the books Soon I will be gone The tall spirit who lodged here has Left already On the avenues the colorless thread lies under Old prices When you look back there is always the past Even when it has vanished But when you look forward With […]...
- At The Wedding March God with honour hang your head, Groom, and grace you, bride, your bed With lissome scions, sweet scions, Out of hallowed bodies bred. Each be other’s comfort kind: Déep, déeper than divined, Divine charity, dear charity, Fast you ever, fast bind. Then let the March tread our ears: I to him turn with tears Who […]...
- On A March Day Here in the teeth of this triumphant wind That shakes the naked shadows on the ground, Making a key-board of the earth to strike From clattering tree and hedge a separate sound, Bear witness for me that I loved my life, All things that hurt me and all things that healed, And that I swore […]...
- Mad Blake Blake saw a treeful of angels at Peckham Rye, And his hands could lay hold on the tiger’s terrible heart. Blake knew how deep is Hell, and Heaven how high, And could build the universe from one tiny part. Blake heard the asides of God, as with furrowed brow He sifts the star-streams between the […]...
- Poem In October It was my thirtieth year to heaven Woke to my hearing from harbour and neighbour wood And the mussel pooled and the heron Priested shore The morning beckon With water praying and call of seagull and rook And the knock of sailing boats on the net webbed wall Myself to set foot That second In […]...
- "Birds of Prey" March March! The mud is cakin’ good about our trousies. Front! eyes front, an’ watch the Colour-casin’s drip. Front! The faces of the women in the ‘ouses Ain’t the kind o’ things to take aboard the ship. Cheer! An’ we’ll never march to victory. Cheer! An’ we’ll never live to ‘ear the cannon roar! The Large […]...
- 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, […]...
- March The Sun at noon to higher air, Unharnessing the silver Pair That late before his chariot swam, Rides on the gold wool of the Ram. So braver notes the storm-cock sings To start the rusted wheel of things, And brutes in field and brutes in pen Leap that the world goes round again. The boys […]...
- The Fight A man is fighting with a cup of coffee. The rules: he must not Break the cup nor spill its coffee; nor must the cup break the Man’s bones or spill his blood. The man said, oh the hell with it, as he swept the cup to The floor. The cup did not break but […]...
- Ape And Coffee Some coffee had gotten on a man’s ape. The man said, Animal did you get on my coffee? No no, whistled the ape, the coffee got on me. You’re sure you didn’t spill on my coffee? said the man. Do I look like a liquid? peeped the ape. Well you sure don’t look human, said […]...
- Blake’s Sunflower 1 Why did Blake say ‘Sunflower weary of time’? Every time I see them They seem to say Now! with a crash Of cymbals! Very pleased And positive And absolutely delighting In their own round brightness. 2 Sorry, Blake! Now I see what you mean. Storms and frost have battered Their bright delight And though […]...
- A March Day in London The east wind blows in the street to-day; The sky is blue, yet the town looks grey. ‘Tis the wind of ice, the wind of fire, Of cold despair and of hot desire, Which chills the flesh to aches and pains, And sends a fever through all the veins. From end to end, with aimless […]...
- Dream Song 112: My framework is broken, I am coming to an end My framework is broken, I am coming to an end, God send it soon. When I had most to say My tongue clung to the roof I mean of my mouth. It is my Lady’s birthday Which must be honoured, and has been. God send It soon. I now must speak to my disciples, west […]...
- The Upstairs Room It must have been in March the rug wore through. Now the day passes and I stare At warped pine boards my father’s father nailed, At the twisted grain. Exposed, where emptiness allows, Are the wormholes of eighty years; four generations’ shoes Stumble and scrape and fall To the floor my father stained, The new […]...
- A Rondeau of College Rhymes Our college rhymes, how light they seem, Like little ghosts of love’s young dream That led our boyish hearts away From lectures and from books, to stray By flowery mead and flowing stream! There’s nothing here, in form or theme, Of thought sublime or art supreme: We would not have the critic weigh Our college […]...
- Convention (To Grandma) Convention will fail us, grandma dear One of these days, as another birthday is drawing near I hope I can manage with a proper wish On something you no longer cherish And if I can’t help wishing you A happy birthday anyway Just look at me in the eyes And see what I […]...
- A March in the Ranks, Hard-prest A MARCH in the ranks hard-prest, and the road unknown; A route through a heavy wood, with muffled steps in the darkness; Our army foil’d with loss severe, and the sullen remnant retreating; Till after midnight glimmer upon us, the lights of a dim-lighted building; We come to an open space in the woods, and […]...
- Coffee Sometimes life is merely a matter of coffee and whatever intimacy a cup of coffee Affords. I once read something about coffee. The thing said that coffee is good for you; It stimulates all the organs. I thought at first this was a strange way to put it, and not altogether pleasant, but As time […]...
- March 1 I could stare for hours At her, the woman stepping Out of her bath, breasts Bare, towel around her waist, Before I knew she was you In that one-bedroom in The Village sunny and cold That Friday we woke up Slowly & our breakfast table Arranged itself into A still life with irises In a […]...
- A Miracle For Breakfast At six o’clock we were waiting for coffee, Waiting for coffee and the charitable crumb That was going to be served from a certain balcony -like kings of old, or like a miracle. It was still dark. One foot of the sun Steadied itself on a long ripple in the river. The first ferry of […]...
- When Klopstock England Defied When Klopstock England defied, Uprose William Blake in his pride; For old Nobodaddy aloft . . . and belch’d and cough’d; Then swore a great oath that made Heaven quake, And call’d aloud to English Blake. Blake was giving his body ease, At Lambeth beneath the poplar trees. From his seat then started he And […]...
- On The Death Of Mr. James Van Otton The first day of this month the last hath bin To that deare soule. March never did come in So lyonlike as now: our lives are made As fickle as the weather or the shade. March dust growes plenty now, while wasting fate Strike heare to dust, well worth the proverbs rate. I could be […]...
- Americanisation Britannia needs no Boulevards, No spaces wide and gay: Her march was through the crooked streets Along the narrow way. Nor looks she where, New York’s seduction, The Broadway leadeth to destruction. Britannia needs no Cafes: If Coffee needs must be, Its place should be the Coffee-house Where Johnson growled for Tea; But who can […]...
- Birthdays Let us have birthdays every day, (I had the thought while I was shaving) Because a birthday should be gay, And full of grace and good behaving. We can’t have cakes and candles bright, And presents are beyond our giving, But let lt us cherish with delight The birthday way of lovely living. For I […]...
- Baptism Into the furnace let me go alone; Stay you without in terror of the heat. I will go naked in for thus ”tis sweet Into the weird depths of the hottest zone. I will not quiver in the frailest bone, You will not note a flicker of defeat; My heart shall tremble not its fate […]...
- Cups of Coffee THE HAGGARD woman with a hacking cough and a deathless love whispers of white Flowers… in your poem you pour like a cup of coffee, Gabriel. The slim girl whose voice was lost in the waves of flesh piled on her bones… and The woman who sold to many men and saw her breasts shrivel… […]...
- MARCH THE snow-flakes fall in showers, The time is absent still, When all Spring’s beauteous flowers, When all Spring’s beauteous flowers Our hearts with joy shall fill. With lustre false and fleeting The sun’s bright rays are thrown; The swallow’s self is cheating: The swallow’s self is cheating, And why? He comes alone! Can I e’er […]...
- On the March So the time seems come at last, And the drums go rolling past, And above them in the sunlight Labour’s banners float and flow; They are marching with the sun, But I look in vain for one Of the men who fought for freedom more than fifteen years ago. They were men who did the […]...
- March The sun is hotter than the top ledge in a steam bath; The ravine, crazed, is rampaging below. Spring that corn-fed, husky milkmaid Is busy at her chores with never a letup. The snow is wasting (pernicious anemia See those branching veinlets of impotent blue?) Yet in the cowbarn life is burbling, steaming, And the […]...