Milkweed and Monarch (Paul Muldoon Poems)
The rain comes flapping through the yardlike a tablecloth that she hand-embroidered.My mother has left it on the line.It is ...
The rain comes flapping through the yardlike a tablecloth that she hand-embroidered.My mother has left it on the line.It is ...
"(On reflecting that the world is ready to go to war again)Detestable race, continue to expunge yourself, die out.Breed faster, ...
Tall, and stout, and solid-looking, Yet a wreck; None would think Death's finger's hooking Him from deck. Cause of half ...
Long-vacant eyes now lodged in clear glass, a-swim with pale arms as delicate as angels' ... you are beyond all ...
The smell of ammonia in the entrance hall. The racing bike. The junk mail. The timer switch whose single naked ...
(On reflecting that the world is ready to go to war again) Detestable race, continue to expunge yourself, die out. ...
The doctor fingers my bruise. "Magnificent," he says, "black at the edges and purple cored." Seated, he spies for clues, ...
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