Republished with permission of "The Wall Street Journal," July 16, 1993
#HumorousQuatrain
The Old Floridian Non-Conformist The young prize individuality And choose to feature navels and t… But that, I think, becomes confor… When choices made are what a milli…
“Saint Chris’s statue on my dash Will surely keep me safe,” he said… But then one day he struck a pole And hit the dashboard with his hea… Oh, woe! Six-inch Saint Christop…
I Defy the Cosmos This cosmic clutter wins no beauty… As ob-jet d’art it’s mostly gaudy… Like those on Christmas trees, ex… And kitchy rings at which the tast…
Times there are in dreams and days when I behold with hollow eyes a happy horde
Our voices hushed, we slip into the narrow, gloomy room, a taper on the back-wall bar the only source of light. Lou leads us to the wooden chairs,
He makes a mild volley, teasingly, with a wry smile, condescending to her female fragil… but she strokes a rather sharp ret… whereupon he responds a little har…
Freedom* Now, the fathers, having suffered… gave unto their begotten plowshare… seeds that their begotten might also pro…
Constructing a Cathedral: St. Etienne, France, 1350 A.D. Arms and legs a jumble of moving s… the workers swarm like flies aroun… hardly heeding screams of those wh…
These two of disparate genes were once Mother, Father; These linoleumed tunnels the marbled halls of my grade scho… where the children’s orchestra,
An Abomination* Ice-gleamed streets, sky an ebony… and a girl accordions her tiny car into the back of mine. She, carmine-streamed, head throug…
The meter of this poem will be like ticks of a clock — no, I mean, ticks of clocks. On contemplation of my navel I see only what appears to be
The Skaters Nothing is less of the earth than couples skating: the woman in her white raiment clean, clean, and full of light,
I am a horse, a patient, plodding hack harnessed behind a chromed cart — a cart I push when told to go and stop when told to whoa.
He with pregnant wife, Sneaking out the back And down the broken stairs, To score some grass or crack. Threading through the alley,
A raptor’s visage, Assyrian bas relief; yet in the eyes, the poise, a stately acquiescence; opulence carved