Mayakovsky

1
My heart’s aflutter!
I am standing in the bath tub
crying. Mother, mother
who am I? If he
will just come back once
and kiss me on the face
his coarse hair brush
my temple, it’s throbbing!

then I can put on my clothes
I guess, and walk the streets.

2
I love you. I love you,
but I’m turning to my verses
and my heart is closing
like a fist.

Words! be
sick ( Read more... )

Dream Song 77
Seedy Henry rose up shy in de world
& shaved & swung his barbells, duded Henry up
and p.a.’d poor thousands of persons on topics of grand
moment to Henry, ah to those less & none.
Wif a book of his in either hand
he is stript down to move on.

-Come away, Mr. Bones.

-Henry is tired of the winter,
& haircuts, & a squeamish comfy ruin- ( Read more... )

The Shampoo
by Elizabeth Bishop

The still explosions on the rocks,
the lichens, grow
by spreading, gray, concentric shocks.
They have arranged
to meet the rings around the moon, although
within our memories they have not changed.

And since the heavens will attend
as long on us,
you've been, dear friend,
precipitate and pragmatical;
and look what happens. For ( Read more... )

My obsession with William Carlos Williams has taken me quite by surprise. I had none of his poems in Europe: my companions there were mostly Sylvia, Keats, Wallace Stevens, and dear old Eliot. I've always liked Williams, but right now I can't read any other poet. This has nothing to do with school. I was trying to write about Wallace Stevens ( Read more... )

I am not a painter, I am a poet ( Read more... )

FlyI have been cruel to a fat pigeon ( Read more... )

A Way to Love God ( Read more... )

Danse RusseIf when my wife is sleeping ( Read more... )