Poetry
Summer 1949
The River Road
Riding south with a grey suit man, A salesman out of Oklahoma, I heard the bugs of every town Swarm families of a minstrel summer: The sorrow’s not for one […]
Poetry
Summer 1949
Song
Either the world is empty or I am, A whole man sang to the piecemeal sun. I touch her where she hurts and then The smokes on the horizon come. […]