The Red Shirt (Philip Levine Poems)
"...his poems that no one reads anymore become dust, wind, nothing, like the insolent colored shirt he bought to die ...
"...his poems that no one reads anymore become dust, wind, nothing, like the insolent colored shirt he bought to die ...
THE DREAM This has nothing to do with war or the end of the world. She dreams there are gray ...
On March 1, 1958, four deserters from the French Army of North Africa, August Rein, Henri Bruette, Jack Dauville, & ...
"I've been where it hurts." the Kid He becomes Sierra Kid I passed Slimgullion, Morgan Mine, Camp Seco, and the ...
In Havana in 1948 I ate fried dog believing it was Peking duck. Later, in Tampa I bunked with an ...
The alder shudders in the April winds off the moon. No one is awake and yet sunlight streams across the ...
I bend to the ground to catch something whispered, urgent, drifting across the ditches. The heaviness of flies stuttering in ...
Rain filled the streets once a year, rising almost to door and window sills, battering walls and roofs until it ...
We stand in the rain in a long line waiting at Ford Highland Park. For work. You know what work ...
Dawn coming in over the fields of darkness takes me by surprise and I look up from my solitary road ...
People sit numbly at the counter waiting for breakfast or service. Today it's Hartford, Connecticut more than twenty-five years after ...
We stripped in the first warm spring night and ran down into the Detroit River to baptize ourselves in the ...
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