rodney

  poem (fancy sports) Thinking of southern basketball teams You might call them squads. And elms. Taking horse trankquilizers, Rubbing out backs. Figuring secret desires perhaps. Presently it will all be cushioned,  Rings of doves, big numbers on rayon Actually we know forward to baskets, Bumping into blue devils, cavaliers Flowering trees, major ones such as Catalpas with mockingbirds and snakes. Dancing is like basketball,  Flying silk  pants, underarms and thighs Raining and the other side is focused  on c rying. Pigskin, oh touchdown. But is that the wrong game?

 p oem (practically in the alleyway) The pink house is Now behind rough leafage. Probably oleanders. Sundown Tints the tips yellow.The roof  Tiles enjoy themselves. The Bush decides to divide, A covenant with the wind. Demuring to the green, the  Weeds are terrifying. The taller Pipes are uprooted. A telephone pole has called  for Ambience. Hell, it all sounds Like a bandleader. The Parliament is grand and bellowing.

  Books read since undergrad days Frank Norris. McTeague Theodore Dreiser. American Tragedy Theodore Dreiser. Sister Carrie William Dean Howells. The Rise of Silas Lapham Upton Sinclair. The Jungle Anthony Trollope. Barchester Towers Anthony Trollope. The Small House at Allington Anthony Trollope. Phineas Finn Anthony Trollope. The Eustache Diamonds Charles Dickens. Bleak House.  Charles Dickens. A Tale of Two Cities Charles Dickens. Hard Times George Eliot. Middlemarch Wilkie Collins. The Woman in White Wilkie Collins. The Moonstone Fyodor Dostoyevsky. Crime and Punishment. Herman Hesse. Siddhartha Gustav Flaubert. Madame Bovary Gustav Flaubert. A Sentimental Education Henry James. Portrait of A Lady. Henry James. The American Henry James. The Ambassadors Henry James. The Bostonians Henry James. The Princess Cassamassima *Henry James. The Golden Bowl Henry James. Turn of the Screw Henry James. Washington Square Edith Wharton. The House of Mirth Edith Wharton. The Age of Innoc...

  poem (ghosts and empires) Ghosts and empires, The olive trees assimilate characteristics of willows in a case of despair. Someone  is hoping, playing football. Who is American and who not? Who expects? Out after dark, then left out in the rain. Skin up close is landscape. Of the lunar carbon tested armed forces, entering Ephesus, as if the capital flourished less than expected, out of place focused sleep can't ever get near the lack. Isn't a curtain, not one has fallen. and the little dog. the little dog is playing pretending we in Connecticut Picturesque views, disembodied art go  around undescribed. The big dog is never

Sic transit It was the weekend we found  Stanley  in the car, he was a walnut, Louise is reported To have said the same thing, only earlier, watching his transit  across the floor. The Chinese  specimen tree growerd in the yard and was o r was not planted  by someone. The tree is the lonely one.

Evenings in Williamsburgh oh Beautiful plush grief. Why are there stories In the closet?  Why up Bedford Street is a flag  flapping? Solidly middle class? The bananas are named Bonita They are a Product of Ecuador. And there stands Raymond  Chandler  who is lurking  among the lights. Balzac however is not there, but the 97th Precinct is arriving.