Large Bad Picture (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
Remembering the Strait of Belle Isle or some northerly harbor of Labrador, before he became a schoolteacher a great-uncle painted ...
Remembering the Strait of Belle Isle or some northerly harbor of Labrador, before he became a schoolteacher a great-uncle painted ...
From Brooklyn, over the Brooklyn Bridge, on this fine morning, please come flying. In a cloud of fiery pale chemicals, ...
Hidden, oh hidden in the high fog the house we live in, beneath the magnetic rock, rain-, rainbow-ridden, where blood-black ...
The roaring alongside he takes for granted, and that every so often the world is bound to shake. He runs, ...
Moving from left to left, the light is heavy on the Dome, and coarse. One small lunette turns it aside ...
About the size of an old-style dollar bill, American or Canadian, mostly the same whites, gray greens, and steel grays ...
Although it is a cold evening, down by one of the fishhouses an old man sits netting, his net, in ...
Man-Moth: Newspaper misprint for "mammoth." Here, above, cracks in the buldings are filled with battered moonlight. The whole shadow of ...
At four o'clock in the gun-metal blue dark we hear the first crow of the first cock just below the ...
In the cold, cold parlor my mother laid out Arthur beneath the chromographs: Edward, Prince of Wales, with Princess Alexandra, ...
I dreamed that dead, and meditating, I lay upon a grave, or bed, (at least, some cold and close-built bower). ...
September rain falls on the house. In the failing light, the old grandmother sits in the kitchen with the child ...
Sometimes I stroll through forests just sprayed for the gypsy moths. I throw a rock into the bushes to distract ...
In the red-roofed stucco house of my childhood, the dining room was screened off by folding doors with small glass ...
Sometimes, I forget the sun sinking into ocean. Desert is only a handful of sand held by my daughter. In ...
I imagine Nice and topless beaches, women smoking and reading novels in the sun. I pretend I am comfortable undressing ...
alas our good kaspar is dead. who will bury a burning flag in the wings of the clouds who will ...
No, I shall not say why it is that I love you- Why do you ask me, save for vanity? ...
Well, as you say, we live for small horizons: We move in crowds, we flow and talk together, Seeing so ...
From time to time, lifting his eyes, he sees The soft blue starlight through the one small window, The moon ...
This is the house. On one side there is darkness, On one side there is light. Into the darkness you ...
More towers must yet be built-more towers destroyed- Great rocks hoisted in air; And he must seek his bread in ...
1 Senlin sat before us and we heard him. He smoked his pipe before us and we saw him. Was ...
1 Senlin sits before us, and we see him. He smokes his pipe before us, and we hear him. Is ...
1 Senlin sits before us, and we see him. He smokes his pipe before us, and we hear him. Is ...
See, as the carver carves a rose, A wing, a toad, a serpent's eye, In cruel granite, to disclose The ...
I The girl in the room beneath Before going to bed Strums on a mandolin The three simple tunes she ...
Fanfare of northwest wind, a bluejay wind announces autumn, and the equinox rolls back blue bays to a far afternoon. ...
Florida An Airedale rolling through green frost, cabbage palms pointing their accusing leaves at whom, petulant waves breaking at my ...
from Senlin: A Biography It is morning, Senlin says, and in the morning When the light drips through the shutters ...
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