by Mary Leader How the tenor warbles in April！ He thrushes， he nightingales， 0 he's a lark. He cuts the cinquefoil air into snippets With his love...
by Langston Hughes You say I O.K.ed LONG DISTANCE？ O.K.ed it when？ My goodness， Central That was then！ I'm mad and disgusted With that Negro now. ...
by Langston Hughes I worked for a woman， She wasn't mean But she had a twelve-room House to clean. Had to get breakfast， Dinner， and supper， too T...
by Donald Hall In October of the year， he counts potatoes dug from the brown field， counting the seed， counting the cellar's portion out， and bags...
by Tomas Transtromer （Translated by Robert Bly） Men in overalls the same color as earth rise from a ditch. It's a transitional place， in stalemate...
by Harley Elliott the full rage of kansas turns loose upon us. On the mexican radio station they are singing Espiritu de mis suenos and that is exactl...
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， ...
by Michael Ryan The dead thing mashed into the street the crows are squabbling over isn't her， nor are their raucous squawks the quiet cawing from...
by Pablo Neruda Translated by Robert Bly There are cemeteries that are lonely， graves full of bones that do not make a sound， the heart moving through...
by Stanley Plumly 1 And then he would lift this finest of furniture to his big left shoulder and tuck it in and draw the bow so carefully as to make t...