Lament For Ignacio Sanchez Mejias (Federico Garcia Lorca Poem)
1. Cogida and death At five in the afternoon. It was exactly five in the afternoon. A boy brought the ...
1. Cogida and death At five in the afternoon. It was exactly five in the afternoon. A boy brought the ...
Talking with my beloved in New York I stood at the outdoor public telephone in Mexican sunlight, in my purple ...
(i) introduction his home in ruins his parents gone frederick seeks to reclaim his throne to the golden mountain he ...
sam swill took a pill went blue ate stew had pains no brains sucked a date too late swallowed stone ...
it began as a secret desire (an itch in the marrow too vague to get through to the bone) an ...
Gulls perched on the pilings a cormorant coursing low toward the open sea a breeze inland from the Atlantic up ...
It was the dark chocolate and the thirty-year old scotch that was the one, so smooth silk sliding down my ...
Dawn on the lake The world is still. Water like a mirror. Land and water blur. Bold bright colors in ...
Look at this storm, the idiot, pouring its heart out here, of all places, an industrial suburb on a Sunday, ...
The day begins to droop,-- Its course is done: But nothing tells the place Of the setting sun. The hazy ...
A RETURN TO THE COVER OF THIS BOOK Dear Trout Fishing in America: I met your friend Fritz in Washington ...
NO more wine? then we'll push back chairs and talk. A final glass for me, though: cool, i' faith! We ...
The second half of my life will be black to the white rind of the old and fading moon. The ...
I In barns we crouch, and under stacks of straw, Harking the storm that rides a hurtling legion Up the ...
I ASKED the Mayor of Gary about the 12-hour day and the 7-day week. And the Mayor of Gary answered ...
In the willows along the river at Pleasure Bay A catbird singing, never the same phrase twice. Here under the ...
My Country The love of field and coppice Of green and shaded lanes, Of ordered woods and gardens Is running ...
for every wind?'s emotionless blast brings shreds of feathers with their dance of loss rotating leaves of faded rainbow-trees and ...
In the painting, I'm seated in a shield, coming home in it up a shadowy river. It is a small ...
My Country The love of field and coppice Of green and shaded lanes, Of ordered woods and gardens Is running ...
Shoestring Press, Nottingham, 2000. VIII Final concept harbour which has broken there where it crumpled our faces there where ikons ...
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