The Lambs on the Boulder (James Wright Poems)
I hear that the Commune di Padova has an exhibition of master- pieces from Giotto to Mantegna. Giotto is the ...
I hear that the Commune di Padova has an exhibition of master- pieces from Giotto to Mantegna. Giotto is the ...
This motley piece to you I send,Who always were a faithful friend;Who, if disputes should happen hence,Can best explain the ...
It has a "point" of neither sex But comes in guise of both,And, doubly dangerous complex, It is a thing to loathe-A ...
Quiet an' cozie, but an' ben,Sittin' at my ain fire-en',On the twa-leav'd volume porin',News baith hame an' foreign storin',Owre them ...
Without knowing my number,enclosed by walls and borders,I walk around with a prisoner's moonand perpetual shadow chained to my ankle.Living ...
So I wish my last poem.To be tender saying the most simple things and less intentionalTo be ardent as a ...
I.WHAT shalt THOU know of Spring? A verdant crown Of young boughs waving o'er thy blooming head: White tufted Guelder-roses, ...
for Sylvia Plath O Sylvia, Sylvia, with a dead box of stones and spoons, with two children, two meteors wandering ...
too much too little too fattoo thinor nobody. laughter ortears haterslovers strangers with faces likethe backs ofthumb tacks armies running ...
Let us deride the smugness of 'The Times': GUFFAW!So much for the gagged reviewers,It will pay them when the worms ...
There are never any suicides in the quarter among people one knowsNo successful suicides.A Chinese boy kills himself and is ...
A bullet through his heart at dawn. On the table a letter signed with a woman's name. A wind that ...
Dear Colette, I want to write to you about being a woman for that is what you write to me. ...
the two hands of me make inimical gestures that only long after betray the one tune though they have the ...
For Carl Solomon I I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked, dragging themselves ...
Far from me and like the stars, the sea and all the trappings of poetic myth, Far from me but ...
if I suffer at this typewriter think how I'd feel among the lettuce- pickers of Salinas? I think of the ...
for J.L.D. Why should we do this? What good is it to us? Above all, how can we do such ...
for Sylvia Plath O Sylvia, Sylvia, with a dead box of stones and spoons, with two children, two meteors wandering ...
Since you ask, most days I cannot remember. I walk in my clothing, unmarked by that voyage. Then the almost ...
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