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| Search results for: p | Found 8786 Poems |
| 4631. | The Lost Pilot by Edward Taylor | | for my father, 1922-1944
Your face did not rot
like the others--the co-pilot,
for example, I saw him
yesterday. His face is corn-
mush: his w... |
| 4632. | Happy As The Day Is Long by Edward Taylor | | I take the long walk up the staircase to my secret room.
Today's big news: they found Amelia Earhart's shoe, size 9.
1992: Charlie Christian is bebo... |
| 4633. | My Great Great Etc. Uncle Patrick Henry by Edward Taylor | | There's a fortune to be made in just about everything
in this country, somebody's father had to invent
everything--baby food, tractors, rat poisonin... |
| 4635. | Non-Stop by Edward Taylor | | It seemed as if the enormous journey
was finally approaching its conclusion.
From the window of the train
the last trees were dissipating,
a chil... |
| 4636. | They Did Not Expect This by Vernon Scannell | | They did not expect this. Being neither wise nor brave
And wearing only the beauty of youth's season
They took the first turning quite unquestioni... |
| 4637. | Nothing Stays Put by Amy Clampitt | | In memory of Father Flye, 1884-1985
The strange and wonderful are too much with us.
The protea of the antipodes—a great,
globed, blazing hone... |
| 4638. | Vacant Lot With Pokeweed by Amy Clampitt | | Tufts, follicles, grubstake
biennial rosettes, a low-
life beach-blond scruff of
couch grass: notwithstanding
the interglinting dregs
of wholes... |
| 4639. | A Catalpa Tree On West Twelfth Street by Amy Clampitt | | While the sun stops, or
seems to, to define a term
for the indeterminable,
the human aspect, here
in the West Village, spindles
to a mutilated da... |
| 4640. | Epilogue by Richard Aldington | | Che son contenti nel fuoco
We are of those that Dante saw
Glad, for love's sake, among the flames of hell,
Outdaring with a kiss all-powerful wra... |
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