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John Woods

Poetry

Autumn 1982

Repeal of the Leash Laws

By John Woods

Now, in the scattering layers of early October, when the browning sun strings its staffs in the tart smoke, I cannot sing except as grackle or sprung radio: not the […]

Poetry

Winter 1952

Night Constable

By John Woods

1. An old man, shaking the doors. See him Preceded by a dog. Have him not Part of the dark or greened by neon. See the streets stride out from […]

Poetry

Winter 1952

The Night Fishing

By John Woods

When Papa threw the stick, Spot slidTo the wateredge, shortened into wrinkles Like his ridged back. String screeled Out into the fog where spookily we waved, Thrown by the huffing […]

Poetry

Winter 1950

Melville Has Green Eyes

By John Woods

Light talked at his elbow, but he never turned. Often the carpet would symbol, lap at his feet; And the white weasel approach, larger and larger Through the dim window, […]

Poetry

Winter 1950

The Old Man Is Dying

By John Woods

"I'm going to follow trees." His beard Blew like steam as he turned the corner Of the house. Spiders were swaying in on threads Across the clipped lawn. His nightgown […]

Poetry

Winter 1950

Birth Day

By John Woods

  I rose from unusual water, crying there is a wound that never heals, a mannaland    as wide as lap. O lie me down in buccal pools, crying   […]