German Joe (Edward George Dyson Poems)
SKIRTING the swamp and the tangled scrub,Tramping and turning amidst the trees,Carrying nothing but blankets and grub,Careless of pleasure and ...
SKIRTING the swamp and the tangled scrub,Tramping and turning amidst the trees,Carrying nothing but blankets and grub,Careless of pleasure and ...
Tonight when I knelt down next to our cat, Zooey,And put my fingers into her clean cat's mouth,And rubbed her ...
Bending with straining eyes Over the tambour frame,Never a change in her weary routine— Slave in all but the name.Tambour, ever tambour, Tambour ...
By an alley lined with tumble-down shacks, And street-lamps askew, half-sputtering, Feebly glimmering on gutters choked with filth, and dogs Scratching their mangy ...
By an alley lined with tumble-down shacks,And street-lamps askew, half-sputtering,Feebly glimmering on gutters choked with filth, and dogsScratching their mangy ...
It's alone in the dark of the old wagon-shed,Where the spider-webs swing from the beams overhead,And the sun, siftin' in ...
I am tired of limited poetryOf well behaved verseOf public servant poetry with time clock card, protocols and expressions of ...
(For T. A. Daly)America, Ireland and Italy,All have known this poor old tree.* * *A rickety fence goes round the ...
CHAUNTED BY JACK SAVAGE, AT THE LIFE-WAKE OF THE FINE ARKANSAS GENTLEMAN, WHO DIED BEFORE HIS TIME, 1859.(Occasioned by a ...
I.I say! hey! cousin there! I mustn't call you brother!Yet you have a tail behind, and I have another!You pull, ...
After I got religion and steadied downThey gave me a job in the canning works,And every morning I had to ...
We boast no more of our bloodless flag, that rose from a nation's slime; Better a shred of a deep-dyed ...
After Joseph Roth Parce que c'était lui; parce que c'était moi. Montaigne, De L'amitië The dream's forfeit was a night ...
Droning a drowsy syncopated tune, Rocking back and forth to a mellow croon, I heard a Negro play. Down on ...
I In the depths of the Greyhound Terminal sitting dumbly on a baggage truck looking at the sky waiting for ...
For Carl Solomon I I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked, dragging themselves ...
Now the journey is ending, the wind is losing heart. Into your hands it's falling, a rickety house of cards. ...
Many setups. At least as many falls. Winter is paralyzing the country, but not here. Here, the boys are impersonating ...
O my beloved city, How many times have I deserted you For the sights and sounds of Babylon? How often ...
'Twas on a Monday morning, and in the year of 1884, That a fire broke out in Bailie Bradford's store, ...
After I got religion and steadied down They gave me a job in the canning works, And every morning I ...
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