Poetry
Winter 1962
Death of the Kapowsin Tavern
I can’t ridge it back again from char. Not one board left. Only ash a cat explores And scattered glass smoked black and strung About from the explosion I believe […]
Poetry
Winter 1965
Napoli Again
Long before I hear it Naples bright with buildings trumpets from the hill. A tugboat toots “paisan” and I am back. That dock I sailed from eighteen years ago. This […]
Poetry
Winter 1962
Between the Bridges
These shacks are tricks. A simple smoke From wood stoves, hanging half-afraid To rise, makes poverty in winter real. Behind unpainted doors, old Greeks Are counting money with their arms. […]
Poetry
Winter 1965
Maratea, Pizzeria S. Biagio
For Biagio Avigliano When you hobble, tattered through the square, they say: come in. We keep the maimed alive. The specialty today: hare Neapolitan or baccala. The price will be […]
Poetry
Autumn 1963
Eileen
Why, this day you’re going, so much wind? When you’ve gone, I’ll go back in alone And take the stillest corner in the house— The dark one where your dark-eyed […]
Poetry
Autumn 1963
The Anacortes-Sydney Run
In good dreams, I have crossed the border And my coins are wrong. Without the tongue I gesture, sweat, and wake aboard this boat. Ladies in their staterooms write bad […]