New And Selected Poems
“The store looked closed for years.
I lost my way there once In a Sunday kind of quiet, Sunday kind of afternoon light On a street of red-brick tenements.
How do you like that?
I said to no one.
How do you like that?
I said it again today upon waking.
That street went on forever And all along I could feel the pins In my back, prickling The dark and heavy cloth.
St. Thomas Aquinas I left parts of myself everywhere The way absent-minded people leave Gloves and umbrellas Whose colors are sad from dispensing so much bad luck.
I was on a park bench asleep.
It was like the Art of Ancient Egypt.
I didn’t wish to bestir myself.
I made my long shadow take the evening train.
“We give death to a child when we give it a doll,”
Said the woman who had read Djuna Barnes.
We whispered all night. She had traveled to darkest Africa.
She had many stories to tell about the jungle.
I was already in New York looking for work.
It was raining as in the days of Noah.
I stood in many doorways of tha...t great city.MoreLess
I lost my way there once In a Sunday kind of quiet, Sunday kind of afternoon light On a street of red-brick tenements.
How do you like that?
I said to no one.
How do you like that?
I said it again today upon waking.
That street went on forever And all along I could feel the pins In my back, prickling The dark and heavy cloth.
St. Thomas Aquinas I left parts of myself everywhere The way absent-minded people leave Gloves and umbrellas Whose colors are sad from dispensing so much bad luck.
I was on a park bench asleep.
It was like the Art of Ancient Egypt.
I didn’t wish to bestir myself.
I made my long shadow take the evening train.
“We give death to a child when we give it a doll,”
Said the woman who had read Djuna Barnes.
We whispered all night. She had traveled to darkest Africa.
She had many stories to tell about the jungle.
I was already in New York looking for work.
It was raining as in the days of Noah.
I stood in many doorways of tha...t great city.MoreLess
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