I want a sign, a heraldic bird, or even an angel at midnight or a plane ticket to Alexandria, a room full of good dreams. This won't do; farmlife with chickens clucking in the barnyard, lambs, cows, vicious horses kicking when I bite their necks. The woman carved of ice was commissioned by certain unknown parties and lasted into a March thaw, tits turning to water. Phone call. That strange cowboy who pinned a button to the boy's fly near the jukebox -- well last night he shot his mom. Arrested, taken in as it were for having a purple fundament, a brain full of grotesqueries, a mouth exploding with red lies. Hops a plane to NYC riding on the wing through a thunderstorm, a parade, a suite at the Plaza, a new silver-plated revolver. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SURFACES AND MASKS; 7 by CLARENCE MAJOR OLD TRAILS by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON GRANDMOTHER'S STORY OF BUNKER HILL BATTLE by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES IN AN ARTIST'S STUDIO by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 74 by PHILIP SIDNEY TRACT by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS |