gaybf's review
4.0
favorite parts/poems:
“Image of the Engine”:
what ends
is that.
Even companionship
ending.
“Guest Room”, 42
From: “Of this all things...” 60
Only—. What distinction
I have is that I have lived
My adult life
With a beautiful woman, I have turned on the light
Sometimes, to see her
Sleeping—The girl who walked
Indian style—straight-toed—
With her blond hair
Thru the forests
“World, world—“ 80
1968:
From “Of Being Numerous,” 83:
-You are the last
Who will know him
Nurse.
Not know him,
He is an old man,
A patient,
How could one know him?
You are the last
Who will see him
Or touch him,
Nurse.
From: “Ballad”
Where he was born
We saw the old farmhouse
Propped and leaning on its hilltop
On that island
Where the ferry runs
A poor lobsterman
1972
From: “Of Hours”
Old friend old poet
If you did not look
What is it you ‘loved’
Twisting your voice your walk
Wet roads
From: “Some San Francisco Poems,3”
It is impossible the world should be either good or bad
If its colors are beautiful or if they are not beautiful
If parts of it taste good or if no parts of it taste good
It is as remarkable in one case as the other
As against this
We have suffered fear, we know something of fear
And of humiliation mounting to horror
1972-75
From: “Latitude, Longitude”
a bee yellow
and heavy as
Pollen in the mountainous
air thin legs crookedly
a-dangle
From: “Semite”
of the foxhole what is a word a name at the
limits
of devotion
to life the terrible knowledge
of deception
From: the Mind’s Own Place
Bertold Brecht once wrote that there are times when it can be almost a crime to write of trees. (...) there are situations which cannot honorably be met by art, and surely no one need fiddle precisely at the moment the house next door is burning. (not to be taken literally)
From: “Twenty-Six Fragments”
#5- Being with Mary: it has
been almost too wonderful
it is hard to believe
#7- I think I have written what I
set out to say — I need
not now turn to narrative
I have told not narrative, but
ourselves — no narrative but ourselves
#9 (part)- Only one mistake, Ezra!
You should have talked
to women
#11- Our little bird: I
feel all my
boyhood in
him
“Image of the Engine”:
what ends
is that.
Even companionship
ending.
“Guest Room”, 42
From: “Of this all things...” 60
Only—. What distinction
I have is that I have lived
My adult life
With a beautiful woman, I have turned on the light
Sometimes, to see her
Sleeping—The girl who walked
Indian style—straight-toed—
With her blond hair
Thru the forests
“World, world—“ 80
1968:
From “Of Being Numerous,” 83:
-You are the last
Who will know him
Nurse.
Not know him,
He is an old man,
A patient,
How could one know him?
You are the last
Who will see him
Or touch him,
Nurse.
From: “Ballad”
Where he was born
We saw the old farmhouse
Propped and leaning on its hilltop
On that island
Where the ferry runs
A poor lobsterman
1972
From: “Of Hours”
Old friend old poet
If you did not look
What is it you ‘loved’
Twisting your voice your walk
Wet roads
From: “Some San Francisco Poems,3”
It is impossible the world should be either good or bad
If its colors are beautiful or if they are not beautiful
If parts of it taste good or if no parts of it taste good
It is as remarkable in one case as the other
As against this
We have suffered fear, we know something of fear
And of humiliation mounting to horror
1972-75
From: “Latitude, Longitude”
a bee yellow
and heavy as
Pollen in the mountainous
air thin legs crookedly
a-dangle
From: “Semite”
of the foxhole what is a word a name at the
limits
of devotion
to life the terrible knowledge
of deception
From: the Mind’s Own Place
Bertold Brecht once wrote that there are times when it can be almost a crime to write of trees. (...) there are situations which cannot honorably be met by art, and surely no one need fiddle precisely at the moment the house next door is burning. (not to be taken literally)
From: “Twenty-Six Fragments”
#5- Being with Mary: it has
been almost too wonderful
it is hard to believe
#7- I think I have written what I
set out to say — I need
not now turn to narrative
I have told not narrative, but
ourselves — no narrative but ourselves
#9 (part)- Only one mistake, Ezra!
You should have talked
to women
#11- Our little bird: I
feel all my
boyhood in
him
More...