Work poems

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Mysterious Neighbors

© Connie Wanek

Country people rise early

as their distant lights testify.

The Cab Driver Who Ripped Me Off

© Cornelius Eady

That’s right, said the cab driver,

Turning the corner to the

The Ragpickers' Wine

© Charles Baudelaire

In the muddy maze of some old neighborhood,
Often, where the street lamp gleams like blood,
As the wind whips the flame, rattles the glass,
Where human beings ferment in a stormy mass,

Sonnet LV: Not marble, nor the gilded monuments

© William Shakespeare

Not marble nor the gilded monuments

Of princes shall outlive this powerful rhyme,

Four-Leaf Clover

© Ella Higginson

I know a place where the sun is like gold,
And the cherry blooms burst with snow,
And down underneath is the loveliest nook,
Where the four-leaf clovers grow.

To His Mistress

© John Wilmot

Why dost thou shade thy lovely face? O why
Does that eclipsing hand of thine deny
The sunshine of the Suns enlivening eye?

On an Infant Dying as Soon as Born

© Charles Lamb

I saw where in the shroud did lurk

A curious frame of Nature's work.

I don’t remember exactly when Budberg died, it was either two years
ago or three.
The same with Chen. Whether last year or the one before.
Soon after our arrival, Budberg, gently pensive,
Said that in the beginning it is hard to get accustomed,
For here there is no spring or summer, no winter or fall.

How Things Work

© Gary Soto

Today it’s going to cost us twenty dollars

To live. Five for a softball. Four for a book,

Study in Hands

© Théophile Gautier

Hollywood Elegies

© Bertolt Brecht

Under the long green hair of pepper trees,
The writers and composers work the street.
Bach’s new score is crumpled in his pocket,
Dante sways his ass-cheeks to the beat.

Where Will I Find You

© John Gould Fletcher

Where, Lord, will I find you:
your place is high and obscured.
And where
won’t I find you:

Midsummer

© Louise Gluck

On nights like this we used to swim in the quarry,
the boys making up games requiring them to tear off ?the girls’ clothes
and the girls cooperating, because they had new bodies since last summer
and they wanted to exhibit them, the brave ones
leaping off ?the high rocks — bodies crowding the water.

from Second Book of Odes: 6. What the Chairman Told Tom

© Ted Hughes

Poetry? It’s a hobby.
I run model trains.
Mr Shaw there breeds pigeons.

Ars Poetica?

I have always aspired to a more spacious form
that would be free from the claims of poetry or prose
and would let us understand each other without exposing
the author or reader to sublime agonies.

Smokers of Paper

He’s brought me to hear his band. He sits in a corner

mouthing his clarinet. A hellish racket begins.

Cleanliness

© Charles Lamb

All-endearing Cleanliness,
Virtue next to Godliness,
Easiest, cheapest, needful'st duty,
To the body health and beauty,
Who that's human would refuse it,
When a little water does it?