What Work Is (Philip Levine Poems)
We stand in the rain in a long line waiting at Ford Highland Park. For work. You know what work ...
We stand in the rain in a long line waiting at Ford Highland Park. For work. You know what work ...
Along the strand stones, busted shells, wood scraps, bottle tops, dimpled and stainless beer cans. Something began here a century ...
Words go on travelling from voice to voice while the phones are still and the wires hum in the cold. ...
Can you imagine the air filled with smoke? It was. The city was vanishing before noon or was it earlier ...
All the way on the road to Gary he could see where the sky shone just out of reach and ...
A man roams the streets with a basket of freestone peaches hollering, "Peaches, peaches, yellow freestone peaches for sale." My ...
Iron growing in the dark, it dreams all night long and will not work. A flower that hates God, a ...
A solitary apartment house, the last one before the boulevard ends and a dusty road winds its slow way out ...
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