Mister
You, in a long black overcoat,Striding past meOn this busy streetAnd giving me the air,I have a hunchYou are the one who cracks the whipAround here and givesTwo-bit grippers like…
You, in a long black overcoat,Striding past meOn this busy streetAnd giving me the air,I have a hunchYou are the one who cracks the whipAround here and givesTwo-bit grippers like…
Of a crying womanWith her tears litBy the headlightsOf a passing car. —Charles Simic Charles Simic's many books of poems include Come Closer and Listen, Hotel Insomnia, My Noiseless Entourage, and The Lunatic.
My mother, sure, everything I knowis from my mother. She told me stories aboutbeing a schoolteacher in a one-room schoolhousein a prairie town so isolated her father and she droveright…
1 It was said to be terrible, her temper,but even more terrible was how she lost it—I mean lost itin the sense that trees lose leaves, in that after she…
in memoriam for my aunt, Pauline Thyfault After the viewing, they took her new false teeth,inhumanly gleaming, out of her mouth, then slidher body in the oven and turned up…