Black horizons, come up.
Black horizons, kiss me.
That is all; so many lies; killing so cheap;
babies so cheap; blood, people so cheap; and
land high, land dear; a speck of the earth
costs; a suck at the tit of Mother Dirt so
clean and strong, it costs; fences, papers,
sheriffs; fences, laws, guns; ...Read more
Come down, O maid, from yonder mountain height:
What pleasure lives in height (the shepherd sang),
In height and cold, the splendour of the hills?
But cease to move so near the Heavens, and cease
To glide a sunbeam by the blasted Pine,
To sit a star upon the sparkling spire;
And come, for Love is of the ...Read more
In later life I retired from poetry,
ploughed the profits
into a family restaurant
in the town of Holzminden, in lower Saxony.
It was small and traditional:
dark wood panelling, deer antlers,
linen tablecloths and red candles,
one beer tap on the bar
and a dish of the day, usually...Read more
Thirty seconds of yellow lichen.
Thirty seconds of coil and surge,
fern and froth, thirty seconds
of salt, rock, fog, spray.
moving slowly to the left?
A door in a rock through which you could see
laved by the weedy tide.
Like filming ...Read more
We are underwater off the coast of Belize.
The water is lit up even though it's dark
as if there are illuminated seashells
scattered on the ocean floor.
We're not wearing oxygen tanks,
yet staying underwater for long stretches.
We are looking for the body of the boy
we lost. Each year he grows a ...Read more
A trapezoid. Piano keys fill soup bowls.
The moon wreaks havoc on the dandy
in a field of proclamations.
A chamber pot. Walk-in closet rife
with used jackhammers. I find a helmet
by the washer-dryer for my free
free-speech call. The power dips
during dinner, sends every clock protesting...Read more
It's very easy to get.
Just keep living and you'll find yourself
getting more and more of it.
You can keep it or pass it on,
but it's a good idea to keep a small portion
for those nights when you're feeling so good
you forget you're human. Then drudge it up
and float down from the ceiling
that ...Read more
Whose fingers wore your ivory keys
So thin-as tempest and tide-flow
Some pearly shell, the castaway
Of indefatigable seas
On a low shingle far away-
You will not tell, we cannot know.
Only, we know that you are come,
Full of strange ghosts melodious
The old years ...Read more
Uncle OttoWinfred Cook
“The author’s capable plotting and writing make up for much of the confusion, though the realization that the book is fictional might still bring surprise.
Regardless, the novel is an important account of one family’s story. While the events my not all be true in fact, they ...
A crimson fire that vanquishes the stars;
A pungent odor from the dusty sage;
A sudden stirring of the huddled herds;
A breaking of the distant table-lands
Through purple mists ascending, and the flare
Of water ditches silver in the light;
A swift, bright lance hurled low across the world;
A sudden ...Read more
Tiny keyboard bearing the massive reverie of the past-
press one button, we're carried away on a country road,
marching with saints, leaving the Red River Valley...
here is every holiday you hated, every hard time,
each steamy summer wish. You closed your eyes
in the wooden stairwell, leaning your head ...Read more
Wrestling that old beauty
"Body and Soul"
To the ground
The genus award for epochal comes besotted
Complicity follows like caramel on a sponge mop
Child-bearing babies on stilts
I dreamed you were felled by an unspecified illness
In yours I was rowing a leaky boat, even though
If tonight the moon should arrive like a lost guide
crossing the fields with a bitter lantern in her hand,
her irides blind, her dresses wild, lie down and listen to her
find you; lie down and listen to the body become
the promise of no other, the sleeper in the garden
in its own arms, the exile in...Read more
The ventriloquist's vines fled to an address on the floor of a cumulus pond. The forest formed gills. The tentacles muttered. Eat a bee. Try to project the tiniest s tar deep beneath this fence. The ravaged shadows repaired in the shade. The numb p anorama rewound.
About this poem
"I wanted to make a surrealist ...Read more
Take this quiet woman, she has been
standing before a polishing wheel
for over three hours, and she lacks
twenty minutes before she can take
a lunch break. Is she a woman?
Consider the arms as they press
the long brass tube against the buffer,
they are striated along the triceps,
the three ...Read more
We climb the slopes of life with throbbing heart,
And eager pulse, like children toward a star.
Sweet siren music cometh from afar,
To lure us on meanwhile. Responsive start
The nightingales to richer song than Art
Can ever teach. No passing shadows mar
Awhile the dewy skies; no inner jar
Of conflict ...Read more
See! I give myself to you, Beloved!
My words are little jars
For you to take and put upon a shelf.
Their shapes are quaint and beautiful,
And they have many pleasant colours and lusters
To recommend them.
Also the scent from them fills the room
With sweetness of flowers and crushed grasses.
Hung up on
and deep in whose
one too many
nights and never
Doing the best
I can, only a man
It hurts me too
Blues in the night
sitting here thinking
a blues for Anne
the most ...Read more
To have a thought, there must be an object-
the field is empty, sloshed with gold, a hayfield thick
with sunshine. There must be an object so land
a man there, solid on his feet, on solid ground, in
a field fully flooded, enough light to see him clearly,
the light on his skin and bouncing off his skin.
Remember judge and you shall
For laughing in school, for being
Stupid and always wrong.
Penance like the scent of the sheep
Is slow O' weary, its coat
A kind of fluff that goes up
In filament theory.
Your own life ahead follows you
Like a scientist posing as a shepherd.
I thought that there were two
The good voice
And my voice
I thought the good voice was buried
And I would have to go
Under my voice
Which is glittery and cold
To get there
Then I heard them
A drumbeat and hawks
Many wild voices