It All
If I enticed you
it was
to see the sun
Set. Yes, as
you say
you had seen
It set before
walking back
I lifted your
Skirts and whacked
you
across the butt
A likely enough
gesture
but I had not
Guessed you had
Cheerful poems
Cheerful poems — a collection of the best works on PoemShip.
Who Knows
A tired white
old nag
standing forlorn
Among sagebrush
on a cold day
are his thoughts
Only of the cold
the weariness
how would he feel
With his belly
full of straw
in a warm stable
Would he then
be thinking
of young mares
Disquiet
The Calculation
I figured that some degree
of evaporation could be
expected
even in cool twilight
turning my collar up
and buttoning the last button
Defiantly she slipped her
step-ins off twirling them
on her finger
there's a weather map
she said, at the bus station
I remember distinctly
low barometric pressure
is predicted for the Northwest
portion
I figured, I admitted, something
* * *
If memory were only in the head
(do not sleep more than once
with any one
the body is a stupid red neck
you try to reason
bang! comes the fist
down on the table
the red neck sees red:
get me that body now!
the body is a crabby baby
that wants
wants with a vengeance
that body
the baby thinks that body
is the bottle
the baby goes on a fast
I. 16. 73
day like spring in thick of winter. turn down the thermostat preserve energy the air is too balmy for a crisis today perfect for making love all day long. but the problem remains "how can housework be made into a creative activity?" objects that are cherished are born of an intimate light they attain to a higher degree of reality than indifferent objects. daily at eight the housewife awakens furniture that was asleep. is there a single woman or man who does not respond to the word wardrobe? so white your sheet white as the moon on the wintry meadow. imagine every morning every object in the house would issue from our hands. things become crystallisations of our weakness but a bit more polishing and we have something quite different. sit in corners & see how old the world has grown how worn. common sense lives on the ground floor same level as everybody passers-by. you want to write? either go down into the basement or upstairs.
Okay Okay
I guess you're
right Cowboy
no one attains
anything but never
mind pretty soon the
typewriter demon
will come home
howling butterflies
Public Affairs
what's all the shouting about, the
man wanted to know; i couldn't
tell him.
It wasn't, even, as if
there weren't anything to shout
about, there was plenty, i can
tell you. but how could i translate
successfully enough? to tell him
just what the shouting was about.
so finally, since he kept insisting,
i told him all, how the colts had
deserted their sacred oath, and more
important, the border guard, and
alexander, big man, halfway into india.
* * *
its like music.
its i like music.
the answer bouncing like a long stemmed
dandelion in april
the most brilliant color in the rainbow,
a bunch of
fantastic
lite beams, smiles, clear ribbons of rain
coloring the sky
the bridge of the sun, the long
womans belly, the horizon.
bubbling up like a stream of sap
thru the trunk
touching the branches, bright
colored bubble surfaces
of sap, spring of sap bubbles
Longlands
I hear
the gander didn't hiss at me.
Was it me? no
it was the gander.
It was me. yes
we have recognized each other
He expects me to carry food. I
expect him to carry food.
Neither is satisfied and I think
I am smarter than he is.
I see
he has more fucking than I have.
Of course
I am not as proud
but I say my walk is more elegant.
I know
* * *
record going around,
room full of music-
I have forgotten the needle!
* * *
to peel an apple--
a store full of knives and swords!
ah, well--
* * *
smell of wet wools
bears disguised as overcoats-
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