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1. A catchy phrase It was called Farm Fantastic, a catchy phrase, And potentially a day’s wasted sweat. Even after the event I can’t say it wasn’t, And I’m kind of glad we went, for better Or worse, to see if it was. Actually, I went Because my Better had prefaced a day away From the farm, her invites […]...
2. Dream Song 31: Henry Hankovitch, con guítar Henry Hankovitch, con guítar, Did a short Zen pray, On his tatami in a relaxed lotos Fixin his mind on nuffin, rose-blue breasts, And gave his parnel one French kiss; Enslaving himself he withdrew from his blue Florentine leather case an Egyptian black & flickt a zippo. Henry & Phoebe happy as cockroaches In the […]...
3. Variations on ‘The short night Below are eleven Buson haiku Beginning with the phrase ‘The short night ‘ The short night On the hairy caterpillar Beads of dew. The short night Patrolmen Washing in the river. The short night Bubbles of crab froth Among the river reeds. The short night A broom thrown away On the beach. The short night […]...
4. Lesson In Grammar THE SENTENCE Perhaps I can make it plain by analogy. Imagine a machine, not yet assembled, Each part being quite necessary To the functioning of the whole: if the job is fumbled And a vital piece mislaid The machine is quite valueless, The workers will not be paid. It is just the same when constructing […]...
5. Your Dad Did What? Where they have been, if they have been away, Or what they’ve done at home, if they have not – You make them write about the holiday. One writes My Dad did. What? Your Dad did what? That’s not a sentence. Never mind the bell. We stay behind until the work is done. You count […]...
6. The Sea To the Sea, to the Sea! The white gulls are crying, The wind is blowing, and the white foam is flying. West, west away, the round sun is falling. Grey ship, grey ship, do you hear them calling? The voices of my people gone before me? I will leave, I will leave the woods that […]...
7. Psalm 90 Man mortal, and God eternal A mournful song at a funeral. Through every age, eternal God, Thou art our rest, our safe abode; High was thy throne ere heav’n was made, Or earth thy humble footstool laid. Long hadst thou reigned ere time began, Or dust was fashioned to a man; And long thy kingdom […]...
8. Examples (August 27) The last Campbell’s tomato soup can Of the twentieth century is going to The Andy Warhol Museum in Pittsburgh That is an example of a sentence Another is this from a CEO in Fortune “You die in either case, but this way you get To do it proactively,” where the adverb Makes the sentence I’m […]...
9. The Gardener XLVI: You Left Me You left me and went on your way. I thought I should mourn for you And set your solitary image in my Heart wrought in a golden song. But ah, my evil fortune, time is Short. Youth wanes year after year; the Spring days are fugitive; the frail Flowers die for nothing, and the wise […]...
10. The pungent atom in the Air The pungent atom in the Air Admits of no debate All that is named of Summer Days Relinquished our Estate For what Department of Delight As positive are we As Limit of Dominion Or Dams of Ecstasy...
11. The Locker All the dull hollow clamor has died And what was contained, Removed, Reproved Adulation or sentiment, Left with the pungent darkness As remembered as the sudden light. Originally published by The Raintown Review...
12. Matins You want to know how I spend my time? I walk the front lawn, pretending To be weeding. You ought to know I’m never weeding, on my knees, pulling Clumps of clover from the flower beds: in fact I’m looking for courage, for some evidence My life will change, though It takes forever, checking Each […]...
13. Continual Conversation With A Silent Man The old brown hen and the old blue sky, Between the two we live and die The broken cartwheel on the hill. As if, in the presence of the sea, We dried our nets and mended sail And talked of never-ending things, Of the never-ending storm of will, One will and many wills, and the […]...
14. Obesity With belly like a poisoned pup Said I: ‘I must give bacon up: And also, I profanely fear, I must abandon bread and beer That make for portliness they say; Yet of them copiously today I ate with an increasingly sense Of grievous corpulence. I like a lot of thinks I like. Too bad that […]...
15. The Many Greene, garlanded with February’s few flowers Ere March came in with Marlowe’s rapturous rage; Peele, from whose hand the sweet white locks of age Took the mild chaplet woven of honored hours; Nash, laughing hard; Lodge, flushed from lyric bowers; And Lilly, a goldfinch in a twisted cage Fed by some gay great lady’s pettish […]...
16. I Ask You What scene would I want to be enveloped in More than this one, An ordinary night at the kitchen table, Floral wallpaper pressing in, White cabinets full of glass, The telephone silent, A pen tilted back in my hand? It gives me time to think About all that is going on outside Leaves gathering in […]...
17. Ikon: The Harrowing of Hell Down through the tomb’s inward arch He has shouldered out into Limbo To gather them, dazed, from dreamless slumber: The merciful dead, the prophets, The innocents just His own age and those Unnumbered others waiting here Unaware, in an endless void He is ending Now, stooping to tug at their hands, To pull them from […]...
18. Ah, that Murphy girl Let’s talk about the weather then, Would that help you take your ease? Gossip is so rare from you The noise of falling leaves is louder than Your breathing; if breathing is whatever is Sustaining you. – Weather? Not at any cost, As old as I might seem I’m not yet dead, I haven’t lost […]...
19. The Desolate Field Vast and grey, the sky Is a simulacrum To all but him whose days Are vast and grey and- In the tall, dried grasses A goat stirs With nozzle searching the ground. My head is in the air But who am I. . . ? -and my heart stops amazed At the thought of love […]...
20. A Wife at daybreak I shall be A Wife at daybreak I shall be Sunrise Hast thou a Flag for me? At Midnight, I am but a Maid, How short it takes to make a Bride Then Midnight, I have passed from thee Unto the East, and Victory Midnight Good Night! I hear them call, The Angels bustle in the Hall Softly […]...
21. Where The Creek Used To Run In ash-fine silt that spread like sand After the flood and before the wild weeds Claimed the old stream bed; Before thistle phalanxes sprang From the dying mud to invest hollows Between abandoned river stones; in affluent heat Of an endless summer of immature dreams; In a valley redolent with green and khaki hills We […]...
22. Sweetness Of The Decent Night They talked to me again today, they spoke in gentle tones And said the things I ought to hear then lead me where The frangipani flowered; they said the heady scent was meant To soothe the wicked wounds I wore, to ease the twisted scars That tore my inner peace. The power was overwhelming and […]...
23. In the Smoking Car The eyelids meet. He’ll catch a little nap. The grizzled, crew-cut head drops to his chest. It shakes above the briefcase on his lap. Close voices breathe, “Poor sweet, he did his best.” “Poor sweet, poor sweet,” the bird-hushed glades repeat, Through which in quiet pomp his litter goes, Carried by native girls with naked […]...
24. Day That I Have Loved Tenderly, day that I have loved, I close your eyes, And smooth your quiet brow, and fold your thin dead hands. The grey veils of the half-light deepen; colour dies. I bear you, a light burden, to the shrouded sands, Where lies your waiting boat, by wreaths of the sea’s making Mist-garlanded, with all grey […]...
25. Philosophy Ere all the world had grown so drear, When I was young and you were here, ‘Mid summer roses in summer weather, What pleasant times we’ve had together! We were not Phyllis, simple-sweet, And Corydon; we did not meet By brook or meadow, but among A Philistine and flippant throng Which much we scorned; (less […]...
26. Tavern I’ll keep a little tavern Below the high hill’s crest, Wherein all grey-eyed people May set them down and rest. There shall be plates a-plenty, And mugs to melt the chill Of all the grey-eyed people Who happen up the hill. There sound will sleep the traveller, And dream his journey’s end, But I will […]...
27. Thought it was America Is there anything which isn’t made in China? The answer is… of course there is, the question Was rhetorical, a crude attempt to palliate China’s late renaissance; eighty years ago you’d say That nothing was – or nothing much that Mattered was, and still been wrong. I’d clipped my nails, don’t like them long and […]...
28. Hymn 5 Submission to afflictive providences. Job 1:21. Naked as from the earth we came, And crept to life at first, We to the earth return again, And mingle with our dust. The dear delights we here enjoy, And fondly call our own, Are but short favors borrowed now, To be repaid anon. ‘Tis God that lifts […]...
29. Breaking and Entering Many setups. At least as many falls. Winter is paralyzing the country, but not here. Here, the boys are impersonating songs of indigenous Wildlife. Mockingbird on the roof of the Gun Shop, Scrub jay behind the Clear Lake Saloon. And when she darts into a drugstore for a chocolate-covered Almond bar, sparrow hawks get the […]...
30. Impression – Le Reveillon The sky is laced with fitful red, The circling mists and shadows flee, The dawn is rising from the sea, Like a white lady from her bed. And jagged brazen arrows fall Athwart the feathers of the night, And a long wave of yellow light Breaks silently on tower and hall, And spreading wide across […]...
31. Two Neighbors FACES of two eternities keep looking at me. One is Omar Khayam and the red stuff Wherein men forget yesterday and to-morrow And remember only the voices and songs, The stories, newspapers and fights of today. One is Louis Cornaro and a slim trick Of slow, short meals across slow, short years, Letting Death open […]...
32. No Brigadier throughout the Year No Brigadier throughout the Year So civic as the Jay A Neighbor and a Warrior too With shrill felicity Pursuing Winds that censure us A February Day, The Brother of the Universe Was never blown away The Snow and he are intimate I’ve often seem them play When Heaven looked upon us all With such […]...
33. Ashes The fireplace Was eager To put a fullstop, In the sentence Where the road Of my dreams Stuck Upon the word of happiness With sparkles Of wet logs I collected From the inside of me That I dared To turn to ashes....
34. Metrical Feet Trochee trips from long to short; From long to long in solemn sort Slow Spondee stalks, strong foot!, yet ill able Ever to come up with Dactyl’s trisyllable. Iambics march from short to long. With a leap and a bound the swift Anapests throng. One syllable long, with one short at each side, Amphibrachys hastes […]...
35. Possums came at night You could see the signs which said that possums came at night And fed upon this tree, they left their mark in fruit discards And broken twigs and shredded leaves spread randomly In careless piles beneath its ravaged canopy. Our father ground his teeth, his frown a sentence to the pests, Such waste he said, […]...
36. Jack's Legacy The critic gushed and said, “Just like Jack, So raw, I never thought to see another writer just Like Kerouac!” Kerouac, who the fuck is he? A writer? Christ, that’s a laugh, compare me to a writer! Let’s face it I’m no hack, I’m not so much to look at either, But maybe Jack took […]...
37. TO DAFFADILS Fair Daffadils, we weep to see You haste away so soon; As yet the early-rising sun Has not attain’d his noon. Stay, stay, Until the hasting day Has run But to the even-song; And, having pray’d together, we Will go with you along. We have short time to stay, as you; We have as short […]...
38. A Word dropped careless on a Page A Word dropped careless on a Page May stimulate an eye When folded in perpetual seam The Wrinkled Maker lie Infection in the sentence breeds We may inhale Despair At distances of Centuries From the Malaria...
39. 'Twas here my summer paused ‘Twas here my summer paused What ripeness after then To other scene or other soul My sentence had begun. To winter to remove With winter to abide Go manacle your icicle Against your Tropic Bride....
40. Settling I was welcomed here-clear gold Of late summer, of opening autumn, The dawn eagle sunning himself on the highest tree, The mountain revealing herself unclouded, her snow Tinted apricot as she looked west, Tolerant, in her steadfastness, of the restless sun Forever rising and setting. Now I am given A taste of the grey foretold […]...