The Present (Philip Levine Poems)
The day comes slowly in the railyard behind the ice factory. It broods on one cinder after another until each ...
The day comes slowly in the railyard behind the ice factory. It broods on one cinder after another until each ...
Still sober, César Vallejo comes home and finds a black ribbon around the apartment building covering the front door. He ...
The air lay soffly on the green fur of the almond, it was April and I said, I begin again ...
We stand in the rain in a long line waiting at Ford Highland Park. For work. You know what work ...
He made a line on the blackboard, one bold stroke from right to left diagonally downward and stood back to ...
"I've been where it hurts." the Kid He becomes Sierra Kid I passed Slimgullion, Morgan Mine, Camp Seco, and the ...
Green fingers holding the hillside, mustard whipping in the sea winds, one blood-bright poppy breathing in and out. The odor ...
When Nellie, my old pussy cat, was still in her prime, she would sit behind me as I wrote, and ...
Los Angeles hums a little tune -- trucks down the coast road for Monday Market packed with small faces blinking ...
Numb, stiff, broken by no sleep, I keep night watch. Looking for signs to quiet fear, I creep closer to ...
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