The List of Famous Hats

Related poetry:

1. An Alphabet of Famous Goops AN ALPHABET OF FAMOUS GOOPS. Which you ‘ll Regard with Yells and Whoops. Futile Acumen! For you Yourselves are Doubtless Dupes Of Failings Such as Mar these Groups We all are Human! 1 ABEDNEGO was Meek and Mild; he Softly Spoke, he Sweetly Smiled. 2 He never Called his Playmates Names, and he was Good […]...
2. Sex With A Famous Poet I had sex with a famous poet last night And when I rolled over and found myself beside him I shuddered Because I was married to someone else, Because I wasn’t supposed to have been drinking, Because I was in fancy hotel room I didn’t recognize. I would have told you Right off this was […]...
3. Hats HATS, where do you belong? what is under you? On the rim of a skyscraper’s forehead I looked down and saw: hats: fifty thousand hats: Swarming with a noise of bees and sheep, cattle and waterfalls, Stopping with a silence of sea grass, a silence of prairie corn. Hats: tell me your high hopes....
4. Exchanging Hats Unfunny uncles who insist In trying on a lady’s hat, oh, even if the joke falls flat, We share your slight transvestite twist In spite of our embarrassment. Costume and custom are complex. The headgear of the other sex Inspires us to experiment. Anandrous aunts, who, at the beach With paper plates upon your laps, […]...
5. My Father’s Hats Sunday mornings I would reach High into his dark closet while standing on a chair and tiptoeing reach Higher, touching, sometimes fumbling the soft crowns and imagine I was in a forest, wind hymning through pines, where the musky scent Of rain clinging to damp earth was his scent I loved, lingering on Bands, leather, […]...
6. A list of some observation A list of some observation. In a corner, it’s warm. A glance leaves an imprint on anything it’s dwelt on. Water is glass’s most public form. Man is more frightening than its skeleton. A nowhere winter evening with wine. A black Porch resists an osier’s stiff assaults. Fixed on an elbow, the body bulks Like […]...
7. Whoso List to Hunt Whoso list to hunt, I know where is an hind, But as for me, helas! I may no more. The vain travail hath worried me so sore, I am of them that furthest come behind. Yet may I by no means, my worried mind Draw from the deer; but as she fleeth afore Fainting I […]...
8. Now List to my Morning's Romanza 1 NOW list to my morning’s romanza-I tell the signs of the Answerer; To the cities and farms I sing, as they spread in the sunshine before me. A young man comes to me bearing a message from his brother; How shall the young man know the whether and when of his brother? Tell him […]...
9. We are the time. We are the famous We are the time. We are the famous Metaphor from Heraclitus the Obscure. We are the water, not the hard diamond, The one that is lost, not the one that stands still. We are the river and we are that greek That looks himself into the river. His reflection Changes into the waters of the […]...
10. Shit List; Or, Omnium-gatherum Of Diversity Into Unity You’ll rejoice at how many kinds of shit there are: Gosling shit (which J. Williams said something Was as green as), fish shit (the generality), trout Shit, rainbow trout shit (for the nice), mullet shit, Sand dab shit, casual sloth shit, elephant shit (awesome as process or payload), wildebeest shit, Horse shit (a favorite), caterpillar […]...
11. The Famous Tay Whale ‘TWAS in the month of December, and in the year l883, That a monster whale came to Dundee, Resolved for a few days to sport and play, And devour the small fishes in the silvery Tay. So the monster whale did sport and play Among the innocent little fishes in the beautiful Tay, Until he […]...
12. Sonnet On Famous And Familiar Sonnets And Experiences (With much help from Robert Good, William Shakespeare, John Milton, and little Catherine Schwartz) Shall I compare her to a summer play? She is too clever, too devious, too subtle, too dark: Her lies are rare, but then she paves the way Beyond the summer’s sway, within the jejune park Where all souls’ aspiration to […]...
13. The Gift “He gave her class. She gave him sex.” Katharine Hepburn on Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers He gave her money. She gave him head. He gave her tips on “aggressive growth” mutual funds. She gave him a red rose and a little statue of eros. He gave her Genesis 2 (21-23). She gave him Genesis […]...
14. In Tall Grass BEES and a honeycomb in the dried head of a horse in a pasture corner-a skull in the tall grass and a buzz and a buzz of the yellow honey-hunters. And I ask no better a winding sheet (over the earth and under the sun.) Let the bees go honey-hunting with yellow blur of wings […]...
15. Ages and Ages, Returning at Intervals AGES and ages, returning at intervals, Undestroy’d, wandering immortal, Lusty, phallic, with the potent original loins, perfectly sweet, I, chanter of Adamic songs, Through the new garden, the West, the great cities calling, Deliriate, thus prelude what is generated, offering these, offering myself, Bathing myself, bathing my songs in Sex, Offspring of my loins....
16. The Demiurge's Laugh It was far in the sameness of the wood; I was running with joy on the Demon’s trail, Though I knew what I hunted was no true god. I was just as the light was beginning to fail That I suddenly head all I needed to hear: It has lasted me many and many a […]...
17. Her Triumph I did the dragon’s will until you came Because I had fancied love a casual Improvisation, or a settled game That followed if I let the kerchief fall: Those deeds were best that gave the minute wings And heavenly music if they gave it wit; And then you stood among the dragon-rings. I mocked, being […]...
18. Rain I opened my eyes And looked up at the rain, And it dripped in my head And flowed into my brain, And all that I hear as I lie in my bed Is the slishity-slosh of the rain in my head. I step very softly, I walk very slow, I can’t do a handstand I […]...
19. Sten There is a knocking in the skull, An endless silent shout Of something beating on a wall, And crying, “Let me out! ” That solitary prisoner Will never hear reply. No comrade in eternity Can hear the frantic cry. No heart can share the terror That haunts his monstrous dark. The light that filters through […]...
20. The Two-Sided Man Much I owe to the Lands that grew More to the Lives that fed But most to Allah Who gave me two Separate sides to my head. Much I reflect on the Good and the True In the Faiths beneath the sun, But most to Allah Who gave me two Sides to my head, not […]...
21. The Innovator (A Pharaoh Speaks.) I said, “Why should a pyramid Stand always dully on its base? I’ll change it! Let the top be hid, The bottom take the apex-place!” And as I bade they did. The people flocked in, scores on scores, To see it balance on its tip. They praised me with the praise that […]...
22. Athritic Fingers Have To Last These painful, cold athritic fingers have to last Much longer yet, they’re all I have to keep the pages On the screen prescribed with glowing words, my favoured antidote To weak and skulking weariness; the cups of strong black coffee Can distress an empty stomach used to tea especially in the morning. I ask myself, […]...
23. Elephant Dormitory An elephant went to bed and pulled a crazy quilt up under Its tusks. But just as the great gray head began filling with the gray Wrinkles of sleep it was awakened by the thud of its tail Falling out of bed. Would you get my tail? said the elephant to another Elephant also tucked […]...
24. Retreating Wind When I made you, I loved you. Now I pity you. I gave you all you needed: Bed of earth, blanket of blue air As I get further away from you I see you more clearly. Your souls should have been immense by now, Not what they are, Small talking things I gave you every […]...
25. Delight is as the flight Delight is as the flight Or in the Ratio of it, As the Schools would say The Rainbow’s way A Skein Flung colored, after Rain, Would suit as bright, Except that flight Were Aliment “If it would last” I asked the East, When that Bent Stripe Struck up my childish Firmament And I, for glee, […]...
26. Young In New Orleans starving there, sitting around the bars, And at night walking the streets for hours, The moonlight always seemed fake To me, mabye it was, And in the French Quarter I watched The horses and buggies going by, Everybody sitting high in the open Carriages, the black driver, and in Back the man and the woman, […]...
27. Forget Not Yet Forget not yet the tried intent Of such a truth as I have meant My great travail so gladly spent Forget not yet. Forget not yet when first began The weary life ye knew, since whan The suit, the service, none tell can, Forget not yet. Forget not yet the great assays, The cruel wrongs, […]...
28. Half An Hour I never had you, nor will I ever have you I suppose. A few words, an approach As in the bar yesterday, and nothing more. It is, undeniably, a pity. But we who serve Art Sometimes with intensity of mind, and of course only For a short while, we create pleasure Which almost seems real. […]...
29. What A Writer what i liked about e. e. cummings Was that he cut away from The holiness of the Word And with charm And gamble Gave us lines That sliced through the Dung. How it was needed! How we were withering Away In the old Tired Manner. Of course, then came all The e. e. cummings Copyists. […]...
30. Some People some people never go crazy. Me, sometimes I’ll lie down behind the couch For 3 or 4 days. They’ll find me there. It’s Cherub, they’ll say, and They pour wine down my throat Rub my chest Sprinkle me with oils. Then, I’ll rise with a roar, Rant, rage – Curse them and the universe As […]...
31. Artist He gave a picture exhibition, Hiring a little empty shop. Above its window: FREE ADMISSION Cajoled the passers-by to stop; Just to admire – no need to purchase, Although his price might have been low: But no proud artist ever urges Potential buyers at his show. Of course he badly needed money, But more he […]...
32. A precious mouldering pleasure 'tis A precious mouldering pleasure ’tis To meet an Antique Book In just the Dress his Century wore A privilege I think His venerable Hand to take And warming in our own A passage back or two to make To Times when he was young His quaint opinions to inspect His thought to ascertain On Themes […]...
33. Tower Of Song Well my friends are gone and my hair is grey I ache in the places where I used to play And I’m crazy for love but I’m not coming on I’m just paying my rent every day Oh in the Tower of Song I said to Hank Williams: how lonely does it get? Hank Williams […]...
34. Crazy Jane On The Mountain I am tired of cursing the Bishop, (Said Crazy Jane) Nine books or nine hats Would not make him a man. I have found something worse To meditate on. A King had some beautiful cousins. But where are they gone? Battered to death in a cellar, And he stuck to his throne. Last night I […]...
35. The Abortion Somebody who should have been born Is gone. Just as the earth puckered its mouth, Each bud puffing out from its knot, I changed my shoes, and then drove south. Up past the Blue Mountains, where Pennsylvania humps on endlessly, Wearing, like a crayoned cat, its green hair, Its roads sunken in like a gray […]...
36. To a Pupil IS reform needed? Is it through you? The greater the reform needed, the greater the personality you need to accomplish it. You! do you not see how it would serve to have eyes, blood, complexion, clean and sweet? Do you not see how it would serve to have such a Body and Soul, that when […]...
37. A long long Sleep A famous Sleep A long long Sleep A famous Sleep That makes no show for Morn By Stretch of Limb or stir of Lid An independent One Was ever idleness like This? Upon a Bank of Stone To bask the Centuries away Nor once look up for Noon?...
38. In A Year Never any more, While I live, Need I hope to see his face As before. Once his love grown chill, Mine may strive: Bitterly we re-embrace, Single still. II. Was it something said, Something done, Vexed him? was it touch of hand, Turn of head? Strange! that very way Love begun: I as little understand […]...
39. First Memory Long ago, I was wounded. I lived To revenge myself Against my father, not For what he was For what I was: from the beginning of time, In childhood, I thought That pain meant I was not loved. It meant I loved....
40. In Dispraise Of Poetry When the King of Siam disliked a courtier, He gave him a beautiful white elephant. The miracle beast deserved such ritual That to care for him properly meant ruin. Yet to care for him improperly was worse. It appears the gift could not be refused....