The Sundays Of Satin-Legs Smith (Gwendolyn Elizabeth Brooks Poems)
Inamoratas, with an approbation,Bestowed his title. Blessed his inclination.He wakes, unwinds, elaborately: a catTawny, reluctant, royal. He is fatAnd fine ...
Inamoratas, with an approbation,Bestowed his title. Blessed his inclination.He wakes, unwinds, elaborately: a catTawny, reluctant, royal. He is fatAnd fine ...
Sing the evil days we see, and the worse that are to be,In such doggerel as dejection will allow,We are ...
Into her mother's bedroom to wash the ballooning body."My mother is jelly-hearted and she has a brain of jelly:Sweet, quiver-soft, ...
Part First Frau Concert-Meister Altgelt shut the door. A storm was rising, heavy gusts of wind Swirled through the trees, ...
(For Warren Winslow, Dead At Sea) Let man have dominion over the fishes of the sea and the fowls of ...
SHE stood against the kitchen sink, and looked Over the sink out through a dusty window At weeds the water ...
How many dawns, chill from his rippling rest The seagull's wings shall dip and pivot him, Shedding white rings of ...
Death is not the final word. Without ears, my father still listens, still shrugs his shoulders whenever I ask a ...
The back, the yoke, the yardage. Lapped seams, The nearly invisible stitches along the collar Turned in a sweatshop by ...
If the shoe fell from the other foot who would hear? If the door opened onto a pure darkness and ...
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