Category Archives: poems
“The Gulls of Settimo” by Primo Levi
From meander to meander, year by year, The lords of the sky have come up the river, Along the banks, up from its violent mouths. They have forgotten surf and salt water, The crafty patient hunts, voracious crabs. Up through … Continue reading
“The United Fruit Company” by Pablo Neruda
When the trumpet sounded, it was all prepared on the earth, the Jehovah parcelled out the earth to Coca Cola, Inc., Anaconda, Ford Motors, and other entities: The Fruit Company, Inc. reserved for itself the most succulent, the central coast … Continue reading
from “Europe” by John Ashbery
10. He had mistaken his book for garbage 11. The editor realized its gradual abandonment a kind of block where other men come down spoiling the view wept blood on the first page and following snow gosh flowers upset ritual … Continue reading
“The Man on the Dump” by Wallace Stevens
Day creeps down. The moon is creeping up. The sun is a corbeil of flowers the moon Blanche Places there, a bouquet. Ho-ho . . . The dump is full Of images. Days pass like papers from a press. The … Continue reading
“It Is Time” by Ted Joans
It is time for the United States to spend money on education so that every American would be hipper, thus no war! It is time for the garbage men to treat garbage cans as they treat their mothers It is … Continue reading
“When the Saints Come Marching In” by Audre Lorde
Plentiful sacrifice and believers in redemption are all that is needed so any day now I expect some new religion to rise up like tear gas from the streets of New York erupting like the rank pavement smell released by … Continue reading
“The New Colossus” by Emma Lazarus
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame, With conquering limbs astride from land to land; Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand A mighty woman with a torch, and her name Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand Glows … Continue reading
“As I ebb’d with the ocean of life” by Walt Whitman
1 As I ebb’d with the ocean of life, As I wended the shores I know, As I walk’d where the ripples continually wash you Paumanok, Where they rustle up hoarse and sibilant, Where the fierce old mother endlessly cries … Continue reading
Bill Murray reads “The Planet on the Table” by Wallace Stevens
Ariel was glad he had written his poems. They were of a remembered time Or of something seen that he had liked. Other makings of the sun Were waste and welter And the ripe shrub writhed. His self and the … Continue reading
“Ozymandias” by Percy Byshee Shelley
I met a traveler from an antique land Who said: “Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert…Near them, on the sand, Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold … Continue reading
Garbological Studies 