A Barkeeper’s Coarse Complaint (Alfred Lichtenstein Poems)
It's enough to make me throw the chair through the panes of themirror Into the street--There I sit with raised ...
It's enough to make me throw the chair through the panes of themirror Into the street--There I sit with raised ...
The Caf? Strelitz was almost empty. Upon a hot midday in July, Don Juan wandered into the Caf? Strelitz ...
The sweaty heads of waiters tower above the roomLike lofty and powerful capitals.Lice-ridden boys giggle nastily.And shining girls give painfully ...
No, I have no capacity for life.I could be considered foolish--Today I am not going to the restaurant.I am after ...
One must guard oneself ever so carefully againstHowling, without any reason, like an animal.Against pouring beer over the faces of ...
The fat lady came out first, tearing out roots and moistening drumskins. The fat lady who turns dying octopuses inside ...
Who cleaned up the Last Supper? These would be my people. Maybe hung over, wanting desperately a better job, standing ...
It was not until later that I knew, recognized the moment for what it was, my life before it, a ...
Little Birds are dining Warily and well, Hid in mossy cell: Hid, I say, by waiters Gorgeous in their gaiters ...
Much wine had passed, with grave discourse Of who fucks who, and who does worse (Such as you usually do ...
Now warm with ministerial ire, Fierce sallied forth our loyal 'Squire, And on his striding steps attends His desperate clan ...
Lavender musk rose from the volume I was reading through, The college crest impressed in gold, tooled gold lettering on ...
1/ Had it not been for the traffic jam You'd have thought being elsewhere Most the niceties seemed so foreign ...
Nothing is given which is not taken. Little or nothing is taken which is not freely desired, freely, truly and ...
I tell thee, Dick, where I have been, Where I the rarest things have seen, O, things without compare! Such ...
Zut! it's two o'clock. See! the lights are jumping. Finish up your bock, Time we all were humping. Waiters stack ...
THE BALLOONS hang on wires in the Marigold Gardens. They spot their yellow and gold, they juggle their blue and ...
At Quattro Gatti, she is the poet-in-residence: In Barcelona, Piccasso started here, painting A humble sketch of a picket-white fence. ...
Roar of the rushing train fearfully rocking, Impatient people jammed in line for food, The rasping noise of cars together ...
(A Poem Game.) I "Down cellar," said the cricket, "Down cellar," said the cricket, "Down cellar," said the cricket, "I ...
He paid a Swede twelve bits an hour Just to invent a fancy style To spread the celebration paint So ...
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