Interregnum
Butcher the evil millionaire, peasant,
And leave him stinking in the square
Torture the chancellor
Leave the
Butcher the evil millionaire, peasant,
And leave him stinking in the square
Torture the chancellor
Leave the
Plurality is all
I walk among the restaurants, the theatres, the grocery stores;
I ride the cars and hear of Mrs
Bedford’s teeth and Albuquerque, strikes unsettled, someone’s simply marvelous date, news of the German Jews, the baseb...
Under the bunker, where the reek of kerosene Prepared the marriage rite, leader and whore,
Imperfect kindling even in this wind, burn on
Someone in uniform hums Brahms
Servants
Squat, unshaven, full of gas,
Joseph Samuels, former clerkin four large cities, out of work,waits in the darkened underpass
In sanctuary, out of reach,he stares at the fading light outside:the rain beginning: hears the tidethat drums alo...
For a
Let it be enough:
The responsive smile,
Though effort goes into it
The middle is the place to stand If there can be one solid spot,
Undoubted, in that damaged land
Two schools exist; one says there is No region lacking hazard, pain,
And fear; the other mentions plains Enclosed For those Wanting mor...
In the broken light, in owl weather,
Webs on the lawn where the leaves end,
I took the thin moon and the sky for
To pick the cat's brains and descendA weedy hill
“I want to get away somewhere and re-read Proust,” Said an editor of Fortune to a man on Time
But the fire roared and died, the phoenix quacked like a goose,
And all roads to the country fray like shawls Outside the dusk of suburbs
...
Between the visits to the shock
The doctors used to let you
On the old upright
Donated by a former
This nothingness that feeds upon itself:
Pencils that turn to water in the hand,
Parts of a sentence, hanging in the air,
Thoughts breaking in the mind like glass,
Then walk the floor, or twist upon your bed While bullets, cold and blind, rush backward from the target’s eye,
And say, “I will not dream that dream again
I will not dream Of long-spent whispers vanishing down corridors That turn throug...
Curtains drawn back, the door ajar
All winter long, it seemed, a darkening Began
But now the moonlight and the odors of the street Conspire and combine toward one community
These are the rooms of Robinson