Poetry
Summer 1958
Nocturne
What is the shape conspiring through The murky trees? Is it a foe With loaded gun, or two, or three Of them, or is it two lovers? No, It is […]
Poetry
Autumn 1956
The Lament of Orpheus
Down to the kingdom of The sudden gun, the thief, the grimy coin, The gang, the shadowed interchange, the fist, The rankness of the dark that took romance, The unresponding […]
Poetry
Autumn 1956
The Man with the Golden Helmet
I As if it had a legend it took wing, That picture of a head, both young and old, Whether a soldier, common man, or king I did not know, […]
Poetry
Summer 1958
The Wedding of Venus and Mars
Ancient and illicit is the match Between the deities of love and war, But only wings like Mercury’s can catch The exploits of this soldier and his whore, And only […]
Poetry
Winter 1955
The Closet
I I liked the comfort of that room, But it had no closet space in it, No depths from which bright clothes could come, So where could I put the […]
Poetry
Winter 1955
In This Hotel There Are No Rooms (A sign outside a Hotel in Venice)
Here in this hotel there are no rooms—The only things we have for you are keys With which the endless wanderers who go Throughout a void of freedom like the […]
Poetry
Spring 1953
Prothalamion for K
“Ask her if there are any with baths.” “I will tell her we are traveling.” “There must be one cool room away from the noise.” “It is very hot.” “A […]
Poetry
Spring 1951
At the Grave of Robert Ingersoll
I stand upon the lavish August grass Uncut about the grave of one who flew At Church, calling it a chain, and crass Christians locked and barred by keys to […]
Poetry
Summer 1958
Autolycus
Silence that is worse than violence, The unexploded secret of the night, And no sure purpose other than the job Of keeping out of sight, 4 is my number, Crossroads […]
Poetry
Autumn 1951
Nocturne
There is no movement but removes the night; there is no movement but returns the night. Folly, Possession, and Absence, in the ascending scale of death, posture for each other […]
Poetry
Summer 1958
Foreign Travel
Have you gone through the streets of a strange city For the first time, the crowds, the shopkeepers, Business people, and the errand runners, Unaware your roots are far and […]
Poetry
Summer 1958
The Spy to the Hero
Knife and gun and always watching eyes And underneath a something that is tense, Nowhere for you, or such a person as You were, since how does openness make sense […]
Book Reviews
Winter 1957
The Flights of Love
The Persimmon Tree by Peter Viereck. Scribner’s. $3.00. Things Of This World by Richard Wilbur. Harcourt. $3.00. Italy is having such a startling effect on American poetry that two of […]