Captain Von Esson of the “Sebastopol” (Henry Lawson Poems)
Of his beauty, or stature, or colour of hair I hadn't the slightest hint,But he comes to me as a little ...
Of his beauty, or stature, or colour of hair I hadn't the slightest hint,But he comes to me as a little ...
My quietness has a man in it, he is transparentand he carries me quietly, like a gondola, through the streets.He ...
The cop holds me up like a fish;he feels the huge bonessurrounding my eyes,and he runs a thumb under them,lifting ...
What is death, I ask. What is life, you ask. I give them both my buttocks, my two wheels rolling ...
A floodlight, a strobe light a light in the window a search light, a flashlight a lighthouse shining in the ...
It's too nice a day to read a novel set in England. We're within inches of the perfect distance from ...
THE PUDDING MASTER OF STANLEY BASIN Tree, snow and rock beginnings, the mountain in back of the lake promised us ...
Man-Moth: Newspaper misprint for "mammoth." Here, above, cracks in the buldings are filled with battered moonlight. The whole shadow of ...
There is nothing to be afraid of, it is only the wind changing to the east, it is only your ...
Along the sprawled body of the derailed Great Northern freight car, I strike a match slowly and lift it slowly. ...
His awful skin stretched out by some tradesman is like my skin, here between my fingers, a kind of webbing, ...
What is death, I ask. What is life, you ask. I give them both my buttocks, my two wheels rolling ...
Four billion people on this earth, but my imagination is the way it's always been: bad with large numbers. It ...
My swirling wants. Your frozen lips. The grammar turned and attacked me. Themes, written under duress. Emptiness of the notations. ...
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