After Making Love We Hear Footsteps (Galway Kinnell Poem)
For I can snore like a bullhorn or play loud music or sit up talking with any reasonably sober Irishman ...
For I can snore like a bullhorn or play loud music or sit up talking with any reasonably sober Irishman ...
As our mother the Frigate, bepainted and fine, Made play for her bully the Ship of the Line; So we, ...
When the flush of a new-born sun fell first on Eden's green and gold, Our father Adam sat under the ...
The old woman across the way is whipping the boy again and shouting to the neighborhood her goodness and his ...
Repeatedly, that sturdy stump in me bears up like stone, beneath some ritual I see: the blinding axe swings up, ...
Not any more to be lacked -- Not any more to be known -- Denizen of Significance For a span ...
Search. Search. Seek. Seek. Cold. Cold. Clear. Clear. Sorrow. Sorrow. Pain. Pain. Hot flashes. Sudden chills. Stabbing pains. Slow agonies. ...
I watch the man bend over his patch, a fat gunny sack at his feet. He combs the earth with ...
When I was young, I used to Watch behind the curtains As men walked up and down the street. Wino ...
WHAT needs this din about the town o' Lon'on, How this new play an' that new sang is comin? Why ...
WEE, modest crimson-tippèd flow'r, Thou's met me in an evil hour; For I maun crush amang the stoure Thy slender ...
I I took the clock down from the shelf; "At eight," said I, "I shoot myself." It lacked a minute ...
Dick's dead! It was the Polack guard Put powdered glass into his cage When I was tramping round the yard,-- ...
Jerry MacMullen, the millionaire, Driving a red-meat bus out there -- How did he win his Croix de Guerre? Bless ...
SCENE.--A Ravine of Icy Rocks in the Indian Caucasus. Prometheus is discovered bound to the Precipice. Panthea and Ione areseated ...
Oh for a poet-for a beacon bright To rift this changless glimmer of dead gray; To spirit back the Muses, ...
[As a Tribute of Esteem and Admiration this Poem is inscribed to ROBERT MERRY, Esq. A. M. Member of the ...
My clumsiest dear, whose hands shipwreck vases, At whose quick touch all glasses chip and ring, Whose palms are bulls ...
XXI Cyriac, whose grandsire on the royal bench Of British Themis, with no mean applause Pronounced and in his volumes ...
XVIII Cyriack, whose Grandsire on the Royal Bench Of Brittish Themis, with no mean applause Pronounc't and in his volumes ...
To range, deep-wrapt, along a heavenly height, O'erseeing all that man but undersees; To loiter down lone alleys of delight, ...
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