Poems by Rita Dove
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Adolescence II
... Sweat prickles behind my knees, the baby-breasts are alert ...
The Bistro Styx
... f-color Monets next to his acrylics, no doubt,plus beared African drums and the occasional miniature ...
Heart to Heart
... nor sweet. It doesn't melt ...
Flirtation
... like a tulip on a wedgewood plate ...
American Smooth
... it must have been a foxtrot or a waltz, ...
Cozy Apologia
... This post-postmodern age is all business: compact disks ...
The Great Palaces of Versailles
... Beyond the curtain, the white girls are all ...
Testimonial
... I caught my breath and called that life, ...
“I have been a stranger in a strange land”
... Life's spell is so exquisite, everything conspires to break it ...
“Teach Us to Number Our Days”
... The alleys smell of cops, pistols bumping their thighs, ...
Fifth Grade Autobiography
... the day before he rode his first horse, alone ...
Parsley
... Even a parrot can roll an R! In the bare room ...
Reverie in Open Air
... But this lawn has been leveled for looking, ...
November for Beginners
... t give. So we wait, breeding ...
Wingfoot Lake
... had been harder, waiting for something to happen, ...
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