Poems begining by T
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The Closet
© Russell Edson
Here I am with my mother, hanging under the molt
of years, in a garden of umbrellas and rubber boots,
together always in the vague perfume of her coat.
The Kraken
© Alfred Tennyson
Below the thunders of the upper deep,
Far far beneath in the abysmal sea,
The Death Of A Fly
© Russell Edson
There was once a man who disguised himself as a
housefly and went about the neighborhood depositing
flyspecks.
Well, he has to do something hasn't he? said someone to
The Toy-Maker
© Russell Edson
A toy-maker made a toy wife and a toy child.
He made a toy house and some toy years.
The Bridge
© Russell Edson
In his travels he comes to a bridge made entirely of bones.
Before crossing he writes a letter to his mother: Dear mother,
guess what? the ape accidentally bit off one of his hands while
eating a banana. Just now I am at the foot of a bone bridge. I
The Pilot
© Russell Edson
Up in a dirty window in a dark room is a star
which an old man can see. He looks at it. He can
see it. It is the star of the room; an electrical
freckle that has fallen out of his head and gotten
stuck in the dirt on the window.
To Lallie (Outside the British Museum)
© Amy Levy
Up those Museum steps you came,
And straightway all my blood was flame,
O Lallie, Lallie!
The Having To Love Something Else
© Russell Edson
There was a man who would marry his mother, and asked his
father for his mother's hand in marriage, and was told he could
not marry his mother's hand because it was attached to all
the rest of mother, which was all married to his father; that
he'd have to love something else . . .
The Sad Message
© Russell Edson
The Captain becomes moody at sea. He's
afraid of water; such bully amounts that prove the
seas. . .
The Patrol And The Gold-Digger
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
Gordon, mounted, loq.
Ho ! you chap of grit and sinew,
Smoking in your pit,
Why thus labour discontinue ?
Why your forehead knit ?
The Changeling
© Russell Edson
A man had a son who was an anvil. And then sometimes
he was an automobile tire.
I do wish you would sit still, said the father.
Sometimes his son was a rock.
The Philosophers
© Russell Edson
. . . I think, therefore I am, said the man.
I hit, therefore we both are, the hitter and the one who gets
hit, said the man's mother.
But at this point the man had ceased to be; unconscious he
could not think. But his mother could. So she thought, I am,
and so is my unconscious son, even if he doesn't know it . . .
The Reflection Of Mountains.
© Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev
How happy my heart is, how buoyant,
On my boat so tiny and light,
I am sailing the ripples and light
All day long and from dusk till the dawning.
The Tree
© Russell Edson
They have grafted pieces of an ape with a dog. . .
Then, what they have, wants to live in a tree.
No, it wants to lift its leg and piss on the tree. . .
The Rat's Tight Schedule
© Russell Edson
A man stumbled on some rat droppings.
Hey, who put those there? That's dangerous, he said.
His wife said, those are pieces of a rat.
Wait, he's coming apart, he's all over the floor, said the
The Phantom Bells
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
Upveiled in yonder dim ethereal sea,
Its airy towers the work of phantom spells,
The Pattern
© Russell Edson
Probably it got mislaid in the baby place, and when they
found it and saw that it was a little too ripe, they said,
well, it is good enough for this woman who is almost
deserving of nothing.
The Purple Cow : Suite
© Gelett Burgess
Ah, Yes! I Wrote the "Purple Cow"
I'm Sorry, now, I Wrote it!
But I can Tell you Anyhow,
I'll Kill you if you Quote it!
The Breast
© Russell Edson
One night a woman's breast came to a man's room and
began to talk about her twin sister.
Her twin sister this and her twin sister that.
Finally the man said, but what about you, dear breast?
The Melting
© Russell Edson
An old woman likes to melt her husband. She puts him in
a melting device, and he pours out the other end in a hot
bloody syrup, which she catches in a series of little husband
molds.
