#AmericanWriters
Here come my night thoughts On crutches, Returning from studying the heaven… What they thought about Stayed the same,
The mad and homeless take shelter Against the cold weather In tombs of the fabulously rich, Where they huddle in their rags And make themselves scarce only
There was a melon fresh from the g… So ripe the knife slurped As it cut it into six slices. The children were going back to sc… Their mother, passing out paper pl…
Green Buddhas On the fruit stand. We eat the smile And spit out the teeth.
One shows me how to lie down in a… Another how to slip my hand under… Another how to kiss with a mouth f… Another how to catch fireflies in… Here is a stable with a single bla…
Extraordinary efforts are being ma… To hide things from us, my friend. Some stay up into the wee hours To search their souls. Others undress each other in darke…
The mail truck goes down the coast Carrying a single letter. At the end of a long pier The bored seagull lifts a leg now… And forgets to put it down.
Father studied theology through th… And this was exam time. Mother knitted. I sat quietly wit… Full of pictures. Night fell. My hands grew cold touching the fa…
Fingers in an overcoat pocket. Fingers sticking out of a black leather glove. The nails chewed raw. One play is called “Thieves’ Market,” another “Night in a Dime Museum.” The fingers w...
Seems like a long time Since the waiter took my order. Grimy little luncheonette, The snow falling outside. Seems like it has grown darker
Your mother carried you Out of the smoking ruins of a buil… And set you down on this sidewalk Like a doll bundled in burnt rags, Where you now stood years later
Where the path to the lake twists… A puff of dust, the kind bare feet… Is what I saw in the dying light, Night swooping down everywhere els… A low branch heavy with leaves
We don’t even take time To come up for air. We keep our mouths full and busy Eating bread and cheese And smooching in between.
And the one that’s got it in for y… Mister, that keeps taunting you In an old man’s morning wheeze Every time you so much as glance a… Or blurt something in your defense…
I liked my little hole, Its window facing a brick wall. Next door there was a piano. A few evenings a month a crippled old man came to play