Monsieur Jim
It was an early spring late afternoon. It had been raining, and the cobblestone “streets” of Père Lachaise cemetery were still wet. The sky looked all grey and wet too, just beautiful.
It was an early spring late afternoon. It had been raining, and the cobblestone “streets” of Père Lachaise cemetery were still wet. The sky looked all grey and wet too, just beautiful.
For many years I had wanted to have a room of my own in a house of my own making, and when the opportunity came I went ahead and did it.
Books
There are books that talk about the Panama Canal
I don’t know what the card catalogs say
And I don’t pay any attention to the financial pages
When I close a letter
with “Cordially,” I
blush with shame.
I dunno about this Euphues.
Lyly’s language is gorgeous,
of course, occasionally irritating,
“I’m going out for a pack of cigarettes.”
At one point in the history of our language —roughly
from the 1920s into the early 1950s is my guess —those
I love you. Woody,
when you peck
on the head
The writing of poems
and the living of life
seem to require
When I am dead and gone
they will say of me,
“We never could figure out
I would like to tell you a story.
My little wife suggested that I tell you this story
because she received such pleasure from it,
Tonight the
light is
right
Compositions in harmony
the sunlight rods over the Commuter’s Spa
bluejay
If I were to sit in this chair
laughing
when you come into the room
The funny thing is that he’s reading a paper
As if with his throat
With the bottom half folded neatly under his chin
Mmmm
I get up and am seized by the present
Whose presence is
You think of everything:
Modem silence, where I go back continually
To you, as does everyone, it seems…