Showing posts with label williams. Show all posts
Showing posts with label williams. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Day 20

Telegram

For William Carlos Williams

To{Florence Herman
RECEIVED DIFFICULT NEWS /stop.
ARE YOU AT ALL AVAILABLE?/stop.
JUST BOUGHT THE HOUSE IN RUTHERFORD/stop.
ALL ALONE HERE./stop.
YOU KNOW HER BETTER THAN MOST/stop.
CONSIDERING RUNNING AWAY TO EUROPE/stop.
I SHOULD HAVE ASKED YOU FIRST/stop.
YOUR FACE/stop.
YOUR YOUTH/stop.
YOUR LACE STOCKINGS/stop.
SEVEN O'CLOCK ALRIGHT?/stop.

W.C.W
Posted by at No comments:
Labels: , ,
Subscribe to: Comments (Atom)

Reach for the clouds. . .

Tickle your toes. . .

  • A girl in a shabby green coat, on a railway-station platform
    motionless sap. ogling your shadow, you have much thinking to do. has the potassium kicked you in the arse yet-and got you going? you a...
  • Memoir of a Memoir: Week 4
    Though it hasn't been months since I have written and attempted edits within my memoir, it has been quite some time since I have reflect...
  • (no title)
    Cal, For Elizabeth Bishop You are American gossip, Didn't anyone have the heart to tell you? You said yourself, you are fantastic and u...
  • Memoir of a Memoir: Week 5
    Recently I have been really attempting to delve into what it means to be a poet. Jim Morrison once wanted to be a poet, and look where it go...
  • full of coins
    hunger is sometimes preferable to loneliness. a stomach will twist- but hands become dirty and heavy when full of coins.
  • small stone #7
    strange tree, your flowers look like badminton birdies.
  • small stone #8
    Another Indian woman living on our block has hair swept back and braided has jeweled toes, is in all yellow traditional regalia, and walks w...
  • Wallflowers
    stuck-wallpaper, tickled, matted-madness, in the morning before matinee wallflowers at school dances just want to be asked. ask them. they...
  • Memoir of a Memoir: Week 6
    My latest endeavor is to begin reading "Tell it Slant: Writing and Shaping Creative Nonfiction" by Brenda Miller and Suzanne Paula...
  • ferris wheel
    at the carnival again- they promised me a ride- walking by the Ferris wheel I see the pile of lost limbs paid for such an "economical...

Poets United Contributor