1120. Closing His Eyes - John Tagliabue

 Did

you

ever

let

a     it 

poem     would

go     return

through             in

the     another 

air     season

like             in

a     another

swift     life ?

beautiful

bird

not

asking

it

to

tell

you 

a

word

knowing

1119. Robert Louis Stevenson - The Land Of Counterpane

 

When I was sick and lay a-bed,

I had two pillows at my head,

And all my toys beside me lay

To keep me happy all the day,

And sometimes for an hour or so

I watched my leaden soldiers go,

With different uniforms and drills,

Among the bed-clothes, through the hills;

And sometimes sent my ships in fleets

All up and down among the sheets;

Or brought my trees and houses out,

And planted cites all about.

I was the giant of great and still

That sits upon the pillow-hill,

And sits before him, dale and plain,

The pleasant land of counterpane.

1118. Steps - Robert O'Hara

How funny you are today New York

like Ginger Rogers in Swingtime

and St. Bridget’s steeple leaning a little to the left

here I have just jumped out of a bed full of V-days

(I got tired of D-days) and blue you there still

accepts me foolish and free

all I want is a room up there

and you in it

and even the traffic halt so thick is a way

for people to rub up against each other

and when their surgical appliacnces lock

they stay together

for the rest of the day (what a day)

I go by to check a slide and I say

that painting’s not so blue

where’s Lana Turner

she’s out eating

and Garbo’s backstage at the Met

everyone’s taking their coat off

so they can show a rib-cage to the rib-watchers

and the park’s full of dancers and their tights and shoes

in little bags

who are often mistaken for worker-outers at the West Side Y

why not

the Pittsburgh Pirates shout because they won

and in a sense we’re all winning

we’re alive

the apartment was vacated by a gay couple

who moved to the country for fun

they moved a day too soon

even the stabbings are helping the population explosion

though in the wrong country

and all those liars have left the U N

the Seagram Building’s no longer rivaled in interest

not that we need liquor (we just like it)

and the little box is out on the sidewalk

next to the delicatessen

so the old man can sit on it and drink beer

and get knocked off it by his wife later in the day

while the sun is still shining

oh god it’s wonderfull

to get out of bed

and drink too much coffee

and smoke too many cigarettes

and  love you so much