Two Poems

Two Poems

    The Guggenheim Fellowship Poem             Do they still write “The Guggenheim Fellowship Poem,”           which takes place in Italy–in Venice, often, but sometimes Florence           with side trips to Siena, and maybe Arezzo, and certainly Ravenna,...
Milwaukee Was Ugly

Milwaukee Was Ugly

             It was light gray.          My father was the mayor.          I never wanted him to die.          You would have loved my dad.          He would have bought you a drink.          He would have brushed up against your tits.          Exactly the type of man...
Weekend Retreat

Weekend Retreat

             A couple times ago when I was here          I wrote a poem which I have since forgotten.          It mentioned a pond and lotuses, silence and meditation.          We sat solid under a tiny circus tent,          as our guru played our chakras on his...
Registration

Registration

    Sadness of living in time and then dying yes I register that today, with the help of Matthew Arnold, and I registered it last week with the help of someone, on a cold rainy day, who was it, I think it was Szymborska, yes and for a minute I knew quite well the...
in the white house

in the white house

                ++++                    this house is like a face          I live inside, windows blinking          on the neighbor’s yard.          my sister lives          inside my version          of a face. her life          has nothing to do          with mine,...
Mrs. Burnside

Mrs. Burnside

          So I wanted it to be for the masses       but it was just for one or two of us.       I intended to give her the box with the bow       on top but I left it at the airport.       They say the most dangerous place to put       your hand, germ-wise, is the...
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