The Armadillo (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
For Robert Lowell This is the time of year when almost every night the frail, illegal fire balloons appear. Climbing ...
For Robert Lowell This is the time of year when almost every night the frail, illegal fire balloons appear. Climbing ...
Neruda's Hat On a day when weather stole every breeze, Pablo told her he kept bits of his poems tucked ...
Well, as you say, we live for small horizons: We move in crowds, we flow and talk together, Seeing so ...
The cigarette-smoke loops and slides above us, Dipping and swirling as the waiter passes; You strike a match and stare ...
'Number four-the girl who died on the table- The girl with golden hair-' The purpling body lies on the polished ...
Over the darkened city, the city of towers, The city of a thousand gates, Over the gleaming terraced roofs, the ...
More towers must yet be built-more towers destroyed- Great rocks hoisted in air; And he must seek his bread in ...
Florida An Airedale rolling through green frost, cabbage palms pointing their accusing leaves at whom, petulant waves breaking at my ...
I look for the way things will turn out spiralling from a center, the shape things will take to come ...
We smile at each other and I lean back against the wicker couch. How does it feel to be dead? ...
Try to remember some details. Remember the clothing of the one you love so that on the day of loss ...
The memory of my father is wrapped up in white paper, like sandwiches taken for a day at work. Just ...
I'm thinking about you. What else can I say? The palm trees on the reverse are a delusion; so is ...
It was taken some time ago. At first it seems to be a smeared print: blurred lines and grey flecks ...
You begin this way: this is your hand, this is your eye, this is a fish, blue and flat on ...
WHILE new-ca'd kye rowte at the stake An' pownies reek in pleugh or braik, This hour on e'enin's edge I ...
My letters! all dead paper, mute and white! And yet they seem alive and quivering Against my tremulous hands which ...
we have everything and we have nothing and some men do it in churches and some men do it by ...
I'll settle for the 6 horse on a rainy afternoon a paper cup of coffee in my hand a little ...
once we were young at this machine. . . drinking smoking typing it was a most splendid miraculous time still ...
I even hear the mountains the way they laugh up and down their blue sides and down in the water ...
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