Damn That Raven

Damn that raven on railroad tie
Damn its wing, it's twitching eye.
Damn it's tail across a perfect blue,
Its claw, its beak, its belly too.
Damn it twice, now three times more,
It hits the air, now damn it four,
Damn it all across a whiting sun,
Damn that raven who flies to none.

I Am The One

I am the one
Who is watching himself.
Thinking, "That thing in the mirror,
It moves like myself."

And I am the one,
Who, before the first breath is drawn,
Thinks, "This is the part,
Where I kick, scratch, or yawn."

And I am the one
Who, preparing to cry,
Thinks, "This is the part
Where I watch myself die."

He Hated Hot

He hated hot
What the sun did not.
With fertile face and animal grace
He cried among solider, sailors, passers-by
He howled:

The ocean has cried for no dead sailors
And I can take no more of an indifferent storm
That throws you out and begs you back again.
Enough! Enough! What pebbles these, that you call rocks
What sippings these that you call drinks,
Oh, what mice, what insects,
What puny insufferable foes. Enough!
I am alone. And stand just so.
Alone I'll stand, alone I'll go.
And watch no more, for that ever likely,
Ever vanishing shore.

Thought he who hated hot,
What the sun hated not.

My Uncle Jake

My uncle Jake did shoot himself
In sunlight on his own porch,
Having said to me, the day before,
"Them that are taking their own,
are taking them at night;
but I would do it in sunglight!"
And now he's slumping, and is not,
In the sunlight and sawdust
Of a porch no longer his.

the cat that was

i is cat
that is that

the mousie toe
go ticky-tat

the birdie be
he fat as rat

the doggie see
he not a cat

i slumber sleep
i sleepy deep

dream mousie,
birdie, doggie, rat

that is that
i is cat

The Horses

What horse you, who made through,
What horses brought you there?
Lame ones, wild ones, broken ones too,
They all could bring you there.

The Old Man

The old man,
Whose footprints are covered as he goes,
Steps into a lamplight where a circle glows,
In the white-on-white world of midnight snows.

Beneath the Trees

Beneath the trees and the clouds roll by,
I hear the thunder, but still I lie,
Watching wind blow through the yellow folds,
And rippling down through fevered gold,
And autumn blazing in its barest brown,
I turn myself over,
And the rain comes down.

Golden Child

Golden child turning in a mushroom field,
Golden child turning and turning again,
Golden child turning, your smile and your skin,
I've lost you, and lost you, and lost you again.