Morning in the Burned House (Margaret Atwood Poem)
In the burned house I am eating breakfast. You understand: there is no house, there is no breakfast, yet here ...
In the burned house I am eating breakfast. You understand: there is no house, there is no breakfast, yet here ...
In the secular night you wander around alone in your house. It's two-thirty. Everyone has deserted you, or this is ...
THERE was three kings into the east, Three kings both great and high, And they hae sworn a solemn oath ...
WHILE at the stook the shearers cow'r To shun the bitter blaudin' show'r, Or in gulravage rinnin scowr To pass ...
There were three kings into the east, Three kings both great and high, An' they hae sworn a solemn oath ...
RecitativoWHEN lyart leaves bestrow the yird, Or wavering like the bauckie-bird, Bedim cauld Boreas' blast; When hailstanes drive wi' bitter ...
THE SIMPLE Bard, rough at the rustic plough, Learning his tuneful trade from ev'ry bough; The chanting linnet, or the ...
UPON that night, when fairies light On Cassilis Downans 2 dance, Or owre the lays, in splendid blaze, On sprightly ...
THEL'S MOTTO 1 Does the Eagle know what is in the pit? 2 Or wilt thou go ask the Mole? ...
Memory, hither come, And tune your merry notes; And, while upon the wind Your music floats, I'll pore upon the ...
and the sun weilds mercy but like a jet torch carried to high, and the jets whip across its sight ...
Rudolph Reed was oaken. His wife was oaken too. And his two good girls and his good little man Oakened ...
there is always that space there just before they get to us that space that fine relaxer the breather while ...
we have everything and we have nothing and some men do it in churches and some men do it by ...
he drank wine all night of the 28th, and he kept thinking of her: the way she walked and talked ...
having the low down blues and going into a restraunt to eat. you sit at a table. the waitress smiles ...
she was hot, she was so hot I didn't want anybody else to have her, and if I didn't get ...
good weather is like good women- it doesn't always happen and when it does it doesn't always last. man is ...
ah, christ, what a CREW: more poetry, always more P O E T R Y . if it doesn't come, ...
death wants more death, and its webs are full: I remember my father's garage, how child-like I would brush the ...
it was on the 2nd floor on Coronado Street I used to get drunk and throw the radio through the ...
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