#AmericanWriters
Boss of all bosses of the universe… Mr. know-it-all, wheeler-dealer, w… And whatever else you’re good at. Go ahead, shuffle your zeros tonig… Dip in ink the comets’ tails.
Enter without knocking, hard-worki… I’m just sitting here mulling over What to do this dark, overcast day… It was a night of the radio turned… Fitful sleep, vague, troubling dre…
You must come to them sideways In rooms webbed in shadow, Sneak a view of their emptiness Without them catching A glimpse of you in return.
The mail truck goes down the coast Carrying a single letter. At the end of a long pier The bored seagull lifts a leg now… And forgets to put it down.
Executioner happy to explain How his wristwatch works As he shadows me on the street. I call him that because he is grim… And wears black.
This last continent Still to be discovered. My hand is dreaming, is building Its ship. For crew it takes A pack of bones, for food
With only his dim lantern To tell him where he is And every time a mountain Of fresh corpses to load up Take them to the other side
The truth is dark under your eyeli… What are you going to do about it? The birds are silent; there’s no o… All day long you’ll squint at the… When the wind blows you’ll shiver…
Seems like a long time Since the waiter took my order. Grimy little luncheonette, The snow falling outside. Seems like it has grown darker
O crows circling over my head and… I admit to being, at times, Suddenly, and without the slightes… Exceedingly happy. On a morning otherwise sunless,
The brightly-painted horse Had a boy’s face, And four small wheels Under his feet, Plus a long string
On the first page of my dreambook It’s always evening In an occupied country. Hour before the curfew. A small provincial city.
A world’s disappearing. Little street, You were too narrow, Too much in the shade already. You had only one dog,
To find clues where there are none… That’s my job now, I said to the Dictionary on my desk. The world… My window has grown illegible, And so has the clock on the wall.
Here come my night thoughts On crutches, Returning from studying the heaven… What they thought about Stayed the same,