#AmericanWriters
All this new stuff goes on top turn it over, turn it over wait and water down from the dark bottom turn it inside out
“O hell, what do mine eyes with grief behold?” Working with an old Singlejack miner, who can sense The vein and cleavage
One granite ridge A tree, would be enough Or even a rock, a small creek, A bark shred in a pool. Hill beyond hill, folded and twist…
Swung from the toes out, Belly-breath riding on the knuckle… The ten-pound maul lifts up, Sails in an arc overhead, And then lifts you!
It comes blundering over the Boulders at night, it stays Frightened outside the Range of my campfire I go to meet it at the
I went into the Maverick Bar In Farmington, New Mexico. And drank double shots of bourbon backed with beer. My long hair was tucked up under a…
Every tan rolling meadow will turn… Freeways are clogged all day Academies packed with scholars wri… City people lean and dark This land most real
Izanami gave birth to rocks, trees, rivers… and last, a blazing child so burned she died. In the land of darkness
He crawls to the edge of the foami… He backs up the slab ledge He puts a finger in the water He turns to a trapped pool Puts both hands in the water
Ah to be alive on a mid-September morn fording a stream barefoot, pants rolled up, holding boots, pack on,
I first saw it in the sixties, driving a Volkswagen camper with a fierce gay poet and a lovely but dangerous girl with a h… we came down from Canada
The sour smell, blue stain, water squirts out round the wedge, Lifting quarters of rounds covered with ants,
Down valley a smoke haze Three days heat, after five days r… Pitch glows on the fir-cones Across rocks and meadows Swarms of new flies.
I’m wondering where you are now Married, or mad, or free: Wherever you are you’re likely gla… But memory troubles me. We could’ve had us children,
One afternoon the last week in Ap… Showing Kai how to throw a hatche… One-half turn and it sticks in a s… He recalls the hatchet-head Without a handle, in the shop