California Plush (Frank Bidart Poem)
The only thing I miss about Los Angeles is the Hollywood Freeway at midnight, windows down and radio blaring bearing ...
The only thing I miss about Los Angeles is the Hollywood Freeway at midnight, windows down and radio blaring bearing ...
The day begins to droop,-- Its course is done: But nothing tells the place Of the setting sun. The hazy ...
Me thinks this heart should rest awhile So stilly round the evening falls The veiled sun sheds no parting smile ...
Creeps in half wanton, half asleep, One with a fat wide hairless face. He likes love-music that is cheap; Likes ...
I He wakes in darkness. All around are sounds of stones shifting, locks unlocking. As if some one had lifted ...
1 Sometime now past in the Autumnal Tide, 2 When Ph{oe}bus wanted but one hour to bed, 3 The trees ...
"Oh yes, I went over to Edmonstoun the other day and saw Johnny, mooning around as usual! He will never ...
Chill and mirk is the nightly blast, Where Pindus' mountains rise, And angry clouds are pouring fast The vengeance of ...
I miss him. When I get back to camp I'll dig him up. Well, he can prop & watch, can't ...
The Russian grin bellows his condolence tó the family: ah but it's Kay, & Ted, & Chris & Anne, Henry ...
A MIDDLE-AGE INTERLUDE. ROSA MUNDI; SEU, FULCITE ME FLORIBUS. A CONCEIT OF MASTER GYSBRECHT, CANON-REGULAR OF SAID JODOCUS-BY-THE-BAR, YPRES CITY. ...
An imaginary composer.] I. Hist, but a word, fair and soft! Forth and be judged, Master Hugues! Answer the question ...
I. So far as our story approaches the end, Which do you pity the most of us three?- My friend, ...
I That fawn-skin-dappled hair of hers, And the blue eye Dear and dewy, And that infantine fresh air of hers! ...
O MEIKLE thinks my luve o' my beauty, And meikle thinks my luve o' my kin; But little thinks my ...
CONTENTED wi' little, and cantie wi' mair, Whene'er I forgather wi' Sorrow and Care, I gie them a skelp as ...
This celestial seascape, with white herons got up as angels, flying high as they want and as far as they ...
Unfunny uncles who insist in trying on a lady's hat, --oh, even if the joke falls flat, we share your ...
Man-Moth: Newspaper misprint for "mammoth." Here, above, cracks in the buldings are filled with battered moonlight. The whole shadow of ...
September rain falls on the house. In the failing light, the old grandmother sits in the kitchen with the child ...
Sometimes, I forget the sun sinking into ocean. Desert is only a handful of sand held by my daughter. In ...
He thinks her little feet should pass Where dandelions star thickly grass; Her hands should lift in sunlit air Sea-wind ...
Here on the pale beach, in the darkness; With the full moon just to rise; They sit alone, and look ...
The door is shut. She leaves the curtained office, And down the grey-walled stairs comes trembling slowly Towards the dazzling ...
Well, as you say, we live for small horizons: We move in crowds, we flow and talk together, Seeing so ...
Wind blows. Snow falls. The great clock in its tower Ticks with reverberant coil and tolls the hour: At the ...
Snow falls. The sky is grey, and sullenly glares With purple lights in the canyoned street. The fiery sign on ...
Round white clouds roll slowly above the housetops, Over the clear red roofs they flow and pass. A flock of ...
The white fog creeps from the cold sea over the city, Over the pale grey tumbled towers,- And settles among ...
One, from his high bright window in a tower, Leans out, as evening falls, And sees the advancing curtain of ...
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