Nothing grows except the grass. (Carlos Barbarito Poem)
Nothing grows except the grass. Nothing leaps into sight except some stone and what the stone contains and protects. Here, ...
Nothing grows except the grass. Nothing leaps into sight except some stone and what the stone contains and protects. Here, ...
It pricks the arms like poison, knowing that some things, once chosen, are yours and that meanwhile the night comes ...
In a wilderness, in some orchestral swing through trees, with a wind playing all the high notes, and the prospect ...
This year, I'm raising the emotional ante, putting my face in the leaves to be stepped on, seeing myself among ...
You are not beautiful, exactly. You are beautiful, inexactly. You let a weed grow by the mulberry And a mulberry ...
The restaurants on hot spring evenings Lie under a dense and savage air. Foul drafts and hoots from dunken revelers ...
Halls grew darker and somehow faded. Grates of windows drowned in black. Every knight, every beautiful lady Knew the tiding: ...
Oh, the shark has pretty teeth, dear And he shows them pearly white. Just a jack knife has Macheath, dear ...
I know it's a bad title but I'm giving it to myself as a gift on a day nearly canceled ...
Love the quick profit, the annual raise, vacation with pay. Want more of everything ready-made. Be afraid to know your ...
Gods, what a black, fierce day! The clouds were iron, Wrenched to strange, rugged shapes; the red sun winked Over ...
a novel by Richard Brautigan THE COVER FOR TROUT FISHING IN AMERICA The cover for Trout Fishing in America is ...
I don't know what it is, but I distrust myself when I start to like a girl a lot. It ...
The surly cop looked out at me in sleep insect-like. Guess, who was the insect. I'd asked him in my ...
Supreme my holdings, greater yet my need, thoughtless I go out. Dawn. Have I my cig's, my flaskie O, O ...
Of all the streets that blur in to the sunset, There must be one (which, I am not sure) That ...
But do not let us quarrel any more, No, my Lucrezia; bear with me for once: Sit down and all ...
Half squatter, half tenant (no rent)- a sort of inheritance; white, in your thirties now, and supposed to supply me ...
I A washing hangs upon the line, but it's not mine. None of the things that I can see belong ...
Think of the storm roaming the sky uneasily like a dog looking for a place to sleep in, listen to ...
In the red-roofed stucco house of my childhood, the dining room was screened off by folding doors with small glass ...
The city purrs, it hums along, the morning hardly risen. A well-dressed drunk smears her finger across a doorman's lips ...
As evening falls, The walls grow luminous and warm, the walls Tremble and glow with the lives within them moving, ...
Now, when the moon slid under the cloud And the cold clear dark of starlight fell, He heard in his ...
Well, as you say, we live for small horizons: We move in crowds, we flow and talk together, Seeing so ...
What shall we talk of? Li Po? Hokusai? You narrow your long dark eyes to fascinate me; You smile a ...
From time to time, lifting his eyes, he sees The soft blue starlight through the one small window, The moon ...
You read-what is it, then that you are reading? What music moves so silently in your mind? Your bright hand ...
Of what she said to me that night-no matter. The strange thing came next day. My brain was full of ...
The warm sun dreams in the dust, the warm sun falls On bright red roofs and walls; The trees in ...
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