Walking The Marshland (Stephen Dunn Poem)
It was no place for the faithless, so I felt a little odd walking the marshland with my daughters, Canada ...
It was no place for the faithless, so I felt a little odd walking the marshland with my daughters, Canada ...
It was supposed to be Arts & Crafts for a week, but when she came home with the "Jesus Saves" ...
Through many a land your journey ran, And showed the best the world can boast: Now tell me, traveller, if ...
Marry, and love thy Flavia, for she Hath all things whereby others beautious be, For, though her eyes be small, ...
Once, and but once found in thy company, All thy supposed escapes are laid on me; And as a thief ...
Three times -- we parted -- Breath -- and I -- Three times -- He would not go -- But ...
They shut me up in Prose -- As when a little Girl They put me in the Closet -- Because ...
The Mountains stood in Haze -- The Valleys stopped below And went or waited as they liked The River and ...
That first Day, when you praised Me, Sweet, And said that I was strong -- And could be mighty, if ...
Could I but ride indefinite As doth the Meadow Bee And visit only where I liked And No one visit ...
Before I got my eye put out I liked as well to see -- As other Creatures, that have Eyes ...
Good Morning -- Midnight -- I'm coming Home -- Day -- got tired of Me -- How could I -- ...
The critic gushed and said, "Just like Jack, so raw, I never thought to see another writer just like Kerouac!" ...
No, she said, I never knew it was your first. It doesn't matter anyway. I always had an inkling that ...
We knew their names or thought we did, we knew their faces from an album of places we'd played in ...
I awoke with two poets in my bed, books I chose from the library, possibly intent on a swift read ...
He said that he had hurt himself on a wall or that he had fallen. But there was probably another ...
Smile at us, pay us, pass us; but do not quite forget; For we are the people of England, that ...
On the Columbia River near Vantage, Washington, we fished for whitefish in the winter months; my dad, Swede- Mr. Lindgren-and ...
THE PROLOGUE. The Sompnour in his stirrups high he stood, Upon this Friar his hearte was so wood,* *furious That ...
She's all my fancy painted him (I make no idle boast); If he or you had lost a limb, Which ...
"How shall I be a poet? How shall I write in rhyme? You told me once the very wish Partook ...
Every month or so, Sundays, we walked the line, The limit and the boundary. Past the sweet gum Superb above ...
The kind old face, the egg-shaped head, The tie, discreetly loud, The loosely fitting shooting clothes, A closely fitting shroud. ...
Listen, ladies, while I sing The ballad of John Henry King. John Henry was a bachelor, His age was thirty-three ...
The only thing I miss about Los Angeles is the Hollywood Freeway at midnight, windows down and radio blaring bearing ...
"When I hit her on the head, it was good, and then I did it to her a couple of ...
It's too nice a day to read a novel set in England. We're within inches of the perfect distance from ...
THE HUNCHBACK TROUT The creek was made narrow by little green trees that grew too close together. The creek was ...
THE PUDDING MASTER OF STANLEY BASIN Tree, snow and rock beginnings, the mountain in back of the lake promised us ...
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