Poems by David Wagoner
Wallace Stevens On His Way To Work
... Had been closed by daylight), and would give himself wholly over ...
For A Row Of Laurel Shrubs
... Brown, leathery, as thick as tongues, remain Almost what they were, tougher than ever, ...
At The Door
... Out of the strike-plate, the door swings on its hinges, ...
Their Bodies
... By the scars of steelmill burns on the backs of his hands, ...
The Cherry Tree
... and suffered the pruning of its quirks and clutters, ...
The Principles of Concealment
... Of the night, and the creature comforts of home ...
For Laurel and Hardy on My Workroom Wall
... Theyre tipping their battered derbies and striding forward ...
Peacock Display
... Each turquoise and purple, black-horned, walleyed quill ...
Trying to Write a Poem While the Couple in the Apartment Overhead Make Love
... while trying too hard to remember the words to a song ...
That Child
... To the wind on the cliffside, what Bittern had found out ...
In Rubble
... And fire to their rescue as they find their bodies ...
The Good Night and Good Morning of Federico Garcia Lorca
... And along the sidewalk to the curb where the singer ...
Between Neighbors
... military macaw gives a counterdemonstration ...
For a Student Sleeping in a Poetry Workshop
... Of feral lovers and preliterate Mowglis, the songs ...
