He Has Lived In Many Houses (Thomas Lux Poems)
furnished rooms, flats, a hayloft, a tent, motels, under a table, under an overturned rowboat, in a villa (briefly) but ...
Thomas Lux Poems (17 Poems)
Refrigerator, 1957 (Thomas Lux Poems)
More like a vault -- you pull the handle out and on the shelves: not a lot, and what there ...
The Road That Runs Beside The River (Thomas Lux Poems)
follows the river as it bends along the valley floor, going the way it must. Where water goes, so goes ...
Plague Victims Catapulted Over Walls Into Besieged City (Thomas Lux Poems)
Early germ warfare. The dead hurled this way look like wheels in the sky. Look: there goes Larry the Shoemaker, ...
Henry Clay’s Mouth (Thomas Lux Poems)
Senator, statesman, speaker of the House, exceptional dancer, slim, graceful, ugly. Proclaimed, before most, slavery an evil, broker of elections ...
Gorgeous Surfaces (Thomas Lux Poems)
They are, the surfaces, gorgeous: a master pastry chef at work here, the dips and whorls, the wrist-twist squeezes of ...
Virgule (Thomas Lux Poems)
What I love about this little leaning mark is how it divides without divisiveness. The left or bottom side prying ...
Motel Seedy (Thomas Lux Poems)
The artisans of this room, who designed the lamp base (a huge red slug with a hole where its heart ...
Unlike, For Example, The Sound Of A Riptooth Saw (Thomas Lux Poems)
gnawing through a shinbone, a high howl inside of which a bloody, slashed-by-growls note is heard, unlike that sound, and ...
Marine Snow At Mid-Depths And Down (Thomas Lux Poems)
As you descend, slowly, falling faster past you this snow, ghostly, some flakes bio- luminescent (you plunge, and this lit ...
“I Love You Sweatheart” (Thomas Lux Poems)
A man risked his life to write the words. A man hung upside down (an idiot friend holding his legs?) ...
A Kiss (Thomas Lux Poems)
One wave falling forward meets another wave falling forward. Well-water, hand-hauled, mineral, cool, could be a kiss, or pastures fiery ...
Torn Shades (Thomas Lux Poems)
How, in the first place, did they get torn-pulled down hard too many times: to hide a blow, or sex, ...
Lucky (Thomas Lux Poems)
One sweet pound of filet mignon sizzles on the roadside. Let's say a hundred yards below the buzzard. The buzzard ...
A Little Tooth (Thomas Lux Poems)
Your baby grows a tooth, then two, and four, and five, then she wants some meat directly from the bone. ...
A Library Of Skulls (Thomas Lux Poems)
Shelves and stacks and shelves of skulls, a Dewey Decimal number inked on each unfurrowed forehead. Here's a skull who, ...
The Man Into Whose Yard You Should Not Hit Your Ball (Thomas Lux Poems)
each day mowed and mowed his lawn, his dry quarter acre, the machine slicing a wisp from each blade's tip. ...