#AmericanWriters
Fingers in an overcoat pocket. Fingers sticking out of a black leather glove. The nails chewed raw. One play is called “Thieves’ Market,” another “Night in a Dime Museum.” The fingers w...
I liked my little hole, Its window facing a brick wall. Next door there was a piano. A few evenings a month a crippled old man came to play
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…
In my great grandmother’s time, All one needed was a broom To get to see places And give the geese a chase in the… •
Millions were dead; everybody was… I stayed in my room. The Presiden… Spoke of war as of a magic love po… My eyes were opened in astonishmen… In a mirror my face appeared to me
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
One shows me how to lie down in a… Another how to slip my hand under… Another how to kiss with a mouth f… Another how to catch fireflies in… Here is a stable with a single bla…
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
Green Buddhas On the fruit stand. We eat the smile And spit out the teeth.
On the road with billowing poplars… In a country flat and desolate To the far-off gray horizon, where… A man and a woman went on foot, Each carrying a small suitcase.
Here come my night thoughts On crutches, Returning from studying the heaven… What they thought about Stayed the same,
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.
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.
A New Version: 1980 What is that little black thing I… in the white? Walt Whitman One
Extraordinary efforts are being ma… To hide things from us, my friend. Some stay up into the wee hours To search their souls. Others undress each other in darke…