The Akond of Swat (Edward Lear Poem)
Who, or why, or which, or what, Is the Akond of SWAT? Is he tall or short, or dark or ...
Who, or why, or which, or what, Is the Akond of SWAT? Is he tall or short, or dark or ...
(For Shaemas O Sheel) One winter night a Devil came and sat upon my bed, His eyes were full of ...
The 'eathen in 'is blindness bows down to wood an' stone; 'E don't obey no orders unless they is 'is ...
A white young paw, an orange tiger arm reaching, squeezed, under the bedroom door resting on the pile carpet, gently ...
Ample make this Bed -- Make this Bed with Awe -- In it wait till Judgment break Excellent and Fair. ...
There's been a Death, in the Opposite House, As lately as Today -- I know it, by the numb look ...
a novel by Richard Brautigan THE COVER FOR TROUT FISHING IN AMERICA The cover for Trout Fishing in America is ...
THE PUDDING MASTER OF STANLEY BASIN Tree, snow and rock beginnings, the mountain in back of the lake promised us ...
the night I was going to die I was sweating on the bed and I could hear the crickets and ...
The children are back, the children are back- They've come to take refuge, exhale and unpack; The marriage has faltered, ...
Unshaven and thin, with an angular face He's lain on my mattress for several days. A cast-iron shadow hangs down ...
1. Old Man Old man, it's four flights up and for what? Your room is hardly bigger than your bed. ...
This is the key to it. This is the key to everything. Preciously. I am worse than the gamekeeper's children ...
We are born with luck which is to say with gold in our mouth. As new and smooth as a ...
I am in a crate, the crate that was ours, full of white shirts and salad greens, the icebox knocking ...
I saw the Greatest Man on Earth, Aye, saw him with my proper eyes. A loin-cloth spanned his proper girth, ...
Groping along the tunnel, step by step, He winked his prying torch with patching glare From side to side, and ...
1 Against the stone breakwater, Only an ominous lapping, While the wind whines overhead, Coming down from the mountain, Whistling ...
A Poem for Three Voices Setting: A Maternity Ward and round about FIRST VOICE: I am slow as the world. ...
(1) This is the sea, then, this great abeyance. How the sun's poultice draws on my inflammation. Electrifyingly-colored sherbets, scooped ...
Page 5 A few hours more, station, deserted, a dirt road for inside the town, mud, mud, blankets outside, mouldering ...
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