#AmericanWriters
The cop holds me up like a fish; he feels the huge bones surrounding my eyes, and he runs a thumb under them, lifting my eyelids
My poem would eat nothing. I tried giving it water but it said no, worrying me. Day after day,
There is this sunny place where I… A park on a hill whose grass wants… Into dust, & would do so if it… For the rain, & the fact that… That keeps the park from flowing d…
The brow of a horse in that moment… The horse is drinking water so dee… It seems to inhale the water, is h… I refuse to explain. When the horse had gone the water…
My youth? I hear it mostly in the… Echoes of billiards in the pool ha… I spent it all, extravagantly, bel… My delicate touch on a cue would l… Outside the vineyards vanished und…
There are places where the eye can… But not here. Here, for example,… The Piazza Navona, & here is… Overlooking the Steps & the c… Tourists. And here is the Protest…
Some called it the Summer of Love… Motionless leaves that overhung th… As ever, the same as they did ever… Anybody with three dollars could h… And who wouldn’t want to know what…
—The Carpathian Frontier, Octobe… —for my brother Once, in a foreign country, I was… I was driving south toward a large… For so little it had a replica, in…
I lay my head sideways on the desk… My fingers interlocked under my ch… My eyes closed. It was a three-ro… White, with a small bell tower, an… From where I sat, on still days,…
Sister once of weeds & a dark… In ditches reflecting the odd, Abstaining clouds that passed, &am… Their own counsel, we Were different, we kept our own co…
“Prince Jesus, crush those bastar… ‘Francois Villon, Grand Testam… It is the unremarkable that will l… As in Brueghel’s camouflage, wher… While elsewhere on a hill, small h…
At Wilshire & Santa Monica I… Trying to cross the street. It wa… Was brightly lit, the opossum woul… A few steps forward, then back awa… Of moving traffic. People coming…
All night I dreamed of my home, of the roads that are so long and straight they die in the middl… among the spines of elderly weeds on either side, among the dead cat…
Looking into the eyes of Gerard d… You notice the giant sea crabs ris… Which is what happens When you look into the eyes of Ge… Always the same thing: the giant s…
Those twenty-six letters filling t… Compose the dark, compose The illiterate summer sky & it… One by one, above the schoolyard. If the soul had a written history,…