Death Of The Kapowsin Tavern (Richard Hugo Poem)
I can't ridge it back again from char. Not one board left. Only ash a cat explores and shattered glass ...
I can't ridge it back again from char. Not one board left. Only ash a cat explores and shattered glass ...
'My father still reads the dictionary every day. He says your life depends on your power to master words.' Arthur ...
To be put on the train and kissed and given my ticket, Then the station slid backward, the shops and ...
I could take the Harlem night and wrap around you, Take the neon lights and make a crown, Take the ...
For Carl Solomon I I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked, dragging themselves ...
What thoughts I have of you tonight, Walt Whit- man, for I walked down the sidestreets under the trees with ...
Oh if they only had signs Neon colors if only they glowed in the dark the false prophets of this ...
A new white crown sneaking out, peeking out not quite ready to burst on the scene to present itself, show ...
In my trade, you never are to ask these kinds of questions, questions where you don't know the answer, those ...
That is what the bright neon sign read this bit of fun, this whimsy this place Leno would love to ...
Serene, almost angelic, the lights of the city attend upon lumbering behemoths shrilly screeching displeasure; they say that nothing is ...
WORSEWICK Worsewick Hot Springs was nothing fancy. Somebody put some boards across the creek. That was it. The boards dammed ...
Earliest morning, switching all the tracks that cross the sky from cinder star to star, coupling the ends of streets ...
When I come from the Smoke to visit my son on the ward I see you everywhere: by the station, ...
I stand before the sea and it rolls and rolls in its green blood saying, "Do not give up one ...
In the dream the swastika is neon and flashes like a strobe light into my eyes, all colors, all vibrations ...
I am the love killer, I am murdering the music we thought so special, that blazed between us, over and ...
In the mid-city, under an oiled sky, I lay in a garden of such dusky green It seemed the dregs ...
While I am emulating Keats My brother fabrics toilet seats, The which, they say, are works of art, Aesthetic features ...
Tomatoes rosy as perfect baby's buttocks, eggplants glossy as waxed fenders, purple neon flawless glistening peppers, pole beans fecund and ...
More like a vault -- you pull the handle out and on the shelves: not a lot, and what there ...
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