Dead town
Fleet with my word, I talk
bodies out of their graves,
which please me better
than sitting in a dark place, not seeing.
We stand and make the moon take to bed.
Poems on the topic: town
Poems on the topic “town” on Poets.by.
Out in the sticks
so far from town
singing
till almost 12:00 at night
First day of spring
my son’s old kite
I put on my velvet coat
to go to town
Above the fray
Sick of the town-
talk, I hear
nothing hard,
my wits never
overtaken by
a fuddle of wool.
Landlocked
The business of the town
is going to sea, which
it pleased God to lay out
in the absence of wine
or ships, a lead foot
setting forth for France
and a mind to stay longer
before they go.
No Trespassing
The walls leased
the sight of the place—
a handsome provision.
To see is to kill.
Night came to town
to help the fox.
In the Hague (tanka)
Two pretty ladies
kiss the two blades with them.
I drop my rapier.
We walk up and down the town.
In every door, the moon.
Transient
a little rain
the bear passing through town
needs no advice
Hands
my hands all morning meet
to put things in order
grow fat with content
and love a falling out
like the lord and lady
of a nothing little town
New neighbor
with my alphabet of commodities and Xs
a stranger in town
teach me some other
things to hate
Hillbilly
A stone in a dish of peas,
I have come far.
Ladies look freely
up and down at me
and some walk
up and down the town,
which makes me think.
Urban renewal
Our work was art,
we gave meat to the poor
but the best gates of the town shut
for fear of the town—
a design to prevent tomorrow,
that we might err.
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