Realpoetik

Dream Jobs By Suzanne Buffam

Dream Jobs By Suzanne Buffam

Random Link Clicker. Royal Bath Taker. Receiver of Foot Rubs and Praise. Ingenue Emeritus. Good Samaritan Emeritus. Undersecretary of Trivial Pursuits. Chief Executive Napper. Chancellor of the Exchequer of the United Kingdom of Spring. Procurer of Unnecessary Hats. Empress of Ice Cream. Cloud-Development Supervisor. Inspector General of Minor Slights. Editorial Dictator-in-Residence. Bubble Blower to the

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Fluorine By Rita Wong

Fluorine By Rita Wong

arsenic in calculators, mercury in felt hats, mad as a poisoned hatter pyrophoric undercurrent in mundane acts assume poison unless otherwise informed crowded alloys detect no health damage until generations later i brush my teeth with nuclear intensity the cavities i avoid destined for others fall into hazardous-waste piles up as i sleep smells though

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A Virginal By Ezra Pound

A Virginal By Ezra Pound

No, no! Go from me. I have left her lately. I will not spoil my sheath with lesser brightness. For my surrounding air hath a new lightness. Slight are her arms, yet they have bound me straitly. And left me cloaked as with a gauze of æther. As with sweet leaves; as with subtle clearness.

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Full Moon By Elinor Wylie

Full Moon By Elinor Wylie

My bands of silk and miniver Momently grew heavier. The black gauze was beggarly thin. The ermine muffled mouth and chin. I could not suck the moonlight in. Harlequin in lozenges. Of love and hate, I walked in these. Striped and ragged rigmaroles. Along the pavement my footsoles. Trod warily on living coals. Shouldering the

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I’ve Tasted My Blood By Milton Acorn

I’ve Tasted My Blood By Milton Acorn

If this brain’s over-tempered. consider that the fire was want. and the hammers were fists. I’ve tasted my blood too much. to love what I was born to. But my mother’s look. was a field of brown oats, soft-bearded. her voice rain and air rich with lilacs. and I loved her too much to like.

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The Poet By Yone Noguchi

The Poet By Yone Noguchi

Out of the deep and the dark. A sparkling mystery, a shape Something perfect. Comes like the stir of the day. One whose breath is an odor. Whose eyes show the road to stars. The breeze in his face. The glory of heaven on his back. He steps like a vision hung in air. Diffusing

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Richard Cory By Edwin Arlington Robinson

Richard Cory By Edwin Arlington Robinson

Whenever Richard Cory went down town. We people on the pavement looked at him. He was a gentleman from sole to crown. Clean favored, and imperially slim. And he was always quietly arrayed. And he was always human when he talked. But still he fluttered pulses when he said. Good-morning, and he glittered when he

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A Satirical Elegy on the Death of a Late Famous General By Jonathan Swift

A Satirical Elegy on the Death of a Late Famous General By Jonathan Swift

His Grace! impossible! what dead. Of old age too, and in his bed. And could that mighty warrior fall. And so inglorious, after all. Well, since he’s gone, no matter how. The last loud trump must wake him now. And, trust me, as the noise grows stronger. He’d wish to sleep a little longer. And could

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The Dead By Charles Heavysege

The Dead By Charles Heavysege

How great unto the living seem the dead. How sacred, solemn how heroic grown. How vast and vague, as they obscurely tread. The shadowy confines of the dim unknown. For they have met the monster that we dread. Have learned the secret not to mortal shown. E’en as gigantic shadows on the wall. The spirit

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I Have Not Lingered in European Monasteries By Leonard Cohen

I Have Not Lingered in European Monasteries By Leonard Cohen

I have not lingered in European monasteries. and discovered among the tall grasses tombs of knights. who fell as beautifully as their ballads tell. I have not parted the grasses. or purposefully left them thatched. I have not released my mind to wander and wait. in those great distances. between the snowy mountains and the

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