ACCOUNT OF MY DAYS

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16 17 18 19 20

  keyword(s) in poems:

Sequence: 4

ABOUT TO SIT DOWN
Stepping out the back door...


KISS HIS EAR
Brown corn bends as...


STALLING OUT
Just by getting enough distance...


PAGE ZERO
my mind's blank wall...


PARTING
words just off...


CRICKETS HESITATE
the night...


FROM AND TO
my first eternity...


IN THIS LITTLE POEM OR WORLD
I mislaid my travel plans the map...


FIELD GUIDE
indigo bunting no words...


untitled
I knew...


I STAY UP LATE
studying to live...


POEM OF EXPOSURE
the tender outcry...


untitled
underground I'll turn to you...


THEFT OF A LINE FROM TATE
I consider it a citizen's duty...


STANDING STILL IN
november...


HOW I TRAPPED THE MURDERER
I left out the part...


PROVERB
he who sleeps a false sleep...


A SUNDAY NIGHT SERMON FOR DAVID BAKER
The first step is to listen,...


I AM PART BUZZARD
my grandmother was a buzzard...


DEAR FUCKHEADS
my head hurts...


TILL IT THAWS
1....


RESOLUTION
I am so glad...


EVENING POEM
in the cellar...


DISTURBANCE
the world is alive...


FLIGHT
the gamblers...


VISIT
Buying toys, the one remaining copy...


STORM
in trouble again...


JUST AFTER DAWN
We sat among the cattle and he asked me ...


INTERPRETATION
Hour begets hour, dream begets dream,...


THE BUZZARD SPEAKS
I am proud...


INTERRUPTION
not knowing what to say...


JOSEPH'S POEM
if you wish to own a fear...


DIS-ORDER
of course...


BLUE MILLION
in the house dark...


untitled
blank pages spit their silence...


BROKEN POEM
life goes through...


AUTOBIOGRAPHY VOL. II
the day before my birth...


MARENGO
the pressure of seasons...


TODAY
awoke in the forest...

A CYCLOPS EXPLAINS TO A STRANGER POLYPHEMUS' HOWLS


every so often one of us here goes crazy 
even though he has everything he wants
and has it for only a little easy work
walk outside in the morning and the flocks follow
sit in the shade all day and watch them fatten
then sundown a walk back home picking up sticks
as you go and once there brain a sheep
and split it roasted meat fat on your tongue
the flock safe in the pen looking on
a life so good I would live it many times over 
if allowed a life of no law no bread
and who would call for wine while the ewes' milk runs?

yes a life so good you almost can't stand it
so good that when the dark sorrow rises
within your breast at brightest fullest noon
or the depthless longing for something you can't name
seizes you like a fit you feel robbed
and wish to find the one who stole your peace
and call him out the violating thief 
you might as well shout that no man's done 
this to you blame him for everything you feel
howl at your friends and neighbors when they mock
and pathetically throw stones into the sea