Stories tagged poem

wintering

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a name is what you are, and a name is a wall between. one day let me be earth, so you may be allowed to say you love me. for now i am separate. i'm afraid that's how i will die, and …

Hexagon

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an ominous figure of fear and grace a ball moves back and forth

My Brother's Bedroom

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they say the sense of smell is the strongest sense connected to memory, but not for me

About Poems

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They often leave me dulled/ and wanting back my time.

Pantheon

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gods aren’t going to help you son

On the Road

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how did they not know

What a Monster I Would Have Become Had I Gone Through Life Unimpeded

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the title of this poem

Florida Dreams of Peru

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Kiln dried mummies, landscape of once were alpacas. / Now all the wool is farmed in Alva

Island Numbers

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an island hidden in the sound holds treasure

The Separation

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Wrote Yeats: “The intellect of man is forced / to choose perfection of the art or of the life.”

This is Not a Poem

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the town / predicted Tom Allen would win a Pulitzer Prize / for the story he would write for the local paper

The Seduction

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You beckon me with an aperitif. The Kir Royal tingles, its bubbles tickling my nose. Its subtle black courant pulls me into your smile. I drink from your lips the champagne-tingle of your kiss.

Path of Least Resistance

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I followed the car-path tendrils/ further and further north.

Black Wheat, 1

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They left their great need behind when they were taken out of the country They live without thought of that blood They do not respond to anything that calls to it They are shallow They feed on image (alone) Blood does not shake their heart

Black Wheat, 2

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They are really living (they) say things they don't mean . . . Do not know what they say Take the path without heart, seeing the image . . . The moon rises above them It does not move their blood Nothing calls out to their blo