A N T H O L O G Y 1 ___________________________________
ALFRED STARR HAMILTON
town
Give us time
Give us crickets
Give us a clock
could you build this wonderful town house in the grass
and put a cricket in it by this evening?
PHILIP DOW
For a Happy Girl
She is like a cricket:
singing all night
With her legs.
WILLIAM WITHERUP
On the Death of Theodore Roethke
The papers say he died in a swimming pool,
but that's not the way that poets go.
A poet's exit is terrible: as his hour
approached the wind began to blow,
rattling the windows of his study.
Below the lake shuddered; fish grew still.
Above the light soured like spoiling grapefruit.
He listened and heard the awful rupture
of petals and stems and a chorus of worms
singing in the compost. He laid down his pen
and went out, feeling the weight of his flesh,
sensing his time of singing was done,
he who had turned the world into honey.
And he moved through his garden like a heavy bee,
his dark suit gathering a bloody pollen.
FRANK SAMPERI
settling
of the nature
of falling
riding a train
looking at homes
desiring a home
transfixed
seeing flow
in the light
on the floor
CID CORMAN
TU FU is long dead.
Leaves have fallen —
leaves will fall.
Every
thing in his words
on a far lookout.
MIKE O'CONNOR
Bamboo Grove
I sit alone
in the bamboo dark,
strumming zither
and chanting.
In deep woods,
with no one aware,
the bright moon
comes to me shining.
RON PADGETT
December
I will sleep
in my little cup
ARAM SAROYAN
'
aren't
J.D. WHITNEY
Cousin Woodpecker:
How do you keep
that
bright red
hat on
while you work?
Cousin Wind:
Where
do you
sleep?
Cousin Beaver:
Ah!
The
sound of
one
hand
clapping.
AMIL QUAYLE
save the ranch
john wayne saved the ranch
killed three white men
fucked the banker's daughter
drove the steers north
killed four indians
paid the mortgage
married the schoolteacher
drove the steers south
built the railroad
killed five chinamen
saved the widow's ranch
fathered six sons
ran for county commissioner
killed seven democrats
drove the steers west
saved l'amour's ranch
killed eight sunsets
bought texas national
drove the steers east
saved bob hope's ranch
killed nine black men
invested in toilet seats
killed two millions japs
died from a cancer-gun
killed ten angels
drove the steers up
found god in a sheepcamp
DARLENE EDDY
Fallen Timber
A passing winter, fallen timber.
In scents of carrion bloom wake-robin.
Leached oak leaves cushion lady's slipper.
Amid decaying branch, wet loam,
Marsh marigold, wax trillium.
Petaled suns, a faint profusion.
JOHN PHILLIPS
the time
it takes
to read
a poem
is it
Palimpset
All writing
is written
in a past
the future
reads backwards
to be now
Late
for Eva
Not to
interrupt
you, placing
into,
and out of,
green plastic
cups, pieces of
precious
gravel.
GERALD LOCKLIN
Faith Partially Restored
the sprightly old man from iowa
who is with the sprightly old woman
from iowa
says to the sprightly old woman
who has just taken the seat between them and me
at the bar,
"what do you do for a living?"
and she replies, "I'm a drug dealer."
he says, "you got any on you?"
and she says, "i just plumb ran out."
and even though it later turns out
that she was raised in iowa also,
and the conversation turns
to relatives that might have known each other,
I decide it's not quite time
to give up altogether on bars.
BOB ARNOLD
All
There is
nothing
greater
than a
greatness
that
comes
not at
all
Hands
He was the first
One ever to show
Me anything, and
Make sense, about
A garden. When he
Called me down into
The fenced half-acre
I walked through the
Wire gate and found
Him shoulder high
In the early morning
Blossom of peas.
And snapping a pod
Open, with the same
Hands that cut timber,
Mended fence and
Milked cows — who
Came in here every
Morning before he
Went off to chores —
He put everything
Into my hands
When he said,
Now taste this.
Purple Japanese Iris
Where you stand
They just about
Touch your lips
LUCILLE CLIFTON
jasper texas 1998
for j. byrd
