The Links O’ Forth : Or, A Parting Peep At The Carse O’ Sterling (Hector MacNeill Poems)
Ah! winding Forth! --- smooth wandering tide!O' Strevlin's peerless plain the pride;How pleas'd alang thy verdant side, Whar floweries spring,The muse ...
Ah! winding Forth! --- smooth wandering tide!O' Strevlin's peerless plain the pride;How pleas'd alang thy verdant side, Whar floweries spring,The muse ...
The Hoosier Folk-Child--all unsung-- Unlettered all of mind and tongue; Unmastered, unmolested--made Most wholly frank and unafraid: Untaught of any school--unvexed Of law or creed--all ...
A few hours after Des Moinesthe toilet overflowed.This wasn't the adventure it sounds.I sat with a man whose tattoosweighed more ...
about the left nippleof the woman in the bathroom.She is drying her hair, the womanwhose left nipple is sore.We looked ...
What is death, I ask. What is life, you ask. I give them both my buttocks, my two wheels rolling ...
When, darkly brooding on this Modern Age, The journalist with his marketable woes Fills up once more the inevitable page ...
Put on a clean shirtbefore you die, some Russian said.Nothing with drool, please,no egg spots, no blood,no sweat, no sperm.You ...
The worst of all idolatorsAre zealous radiolatersWho wreck the peace of erstwhile happy homesWith drool of variometers,Detectors, galvanometers,Antennae, switches, batteries ...
When, darkly brooding on this Modern Age, The journalist with his marketable woes Fills up once more the inevitable page ...
You were never told, Mother, how old Illyawas drunk That last holiday, for five days and nights He stumbled through ...
Collating bones: I would have liked to do. Henry would have been hot at that. I missed his profession. As ...
What is death, I ask. What is life, you ask. I give them both my buttocks, my two wheels rolling ...
Put on a clean shirt before you die, some Russian said. Nothing with drool, please, no egg spots, no blood, ...
The leaves are sick and jaundiced, they Drift down the air; December's sky is sodden grey, Dark with despair; A ...
When looking back I dimly see The trails my feet have trod, Some hand divine, it seems to me, Has ...
I Laugh at Life: its antics make for me a giddy games, Where only foolish fellows take themselves with solemn ...
He hangs on dangling handholds As the train sways and careens Endless nondescript buildings unfold Their secrets as the tired ...
It's wonderful how I jog on four honed-down ivory toes my massive buttocks slipping like oiled parts with each light ...
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