Poetry

Why They Love Us

Vanna, 1987?–1995 Dogs love us uncomplainingly because They see us in a way we never do. They don’t have sense enough to see our flaws The way we fear our lovers’ fangs and claws. Blondi ...

The Dead Deer on the Side of the Road

When I see a dead deer on the side of Rte. 17 West, its hind legs pointing up to the sky stiff as sticks, its body crumpled and still, I think of you in the ...

Clancy the Dog

— For Claire He is so ugly he is a psalm to ugliness, this extra-terrestrial, short-haired midget sea lion, snorts, farts, grunts, turns somersaults on his mistress’ bed. She calls him an imperfect Boston terrier, ...

Vitae Summa Brevis Spem Nos Vetat Incohare Longam

They are not long, the weeping and the laughter, Love and desire and hate: I think they have no portion in us after We pass the gate. They are not long, the days of wine ...

A Dream Within a Dream

Take this kiss upon the brow! And, in parting from you now, Thus much let me avow — You are not wrong, who deem That my days have been a dream; Yet if hope has ...

Summer in the South

The Oriole sings in the greening grove As if he were half-way waiting, The rosebuds peep from their hoods of green, Timid, and hesitating. The rain comes down in a torrent sweep And the nights ...

Invictus

Out of the night that covers me, Black as the Pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced ...

Only in Sleep

Only in sleep I see their faces, Children I played with when I was a child, Louise comes back with her brown hair braided, Annie with ringlets warm and wild. Only in sleep Time is ...

Father William

“You are old, Father William,” the young man said, “And your hair has become very white; And yet you incessantly stand on your head — Do you think, at your age, it is right?” “In ...

And a Few of Your Thoughts on Writing, Please

I used to think that to write poetry I needed absolute silence, so I could hear the muse in her bare feet. I imagined special pens, ink the color of Shelley’s eyes, and paper made ...

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