If it should ever come And we are all there together time will wave as willows do and adios will be truly, yes, laughing at what is forgotten and talking of what’s new admiring the roses you brought. How sad. You didn’t know you were at t

Baraka Amiri reading Charles Olson

Our company thus moves collectively along the River Rio. The poet starts the strings, as sleep inhabits the stage, along the silver of a morning raga,      &nbs

Auto-Destruction

*If you're so smart, why ain't you rich? *I need everything else Anything else Desperately But I have nothing Shall have nothing but this Immediate, inescapable and invaluable No one can afford THIS Being made here and now

HOMAGE TO LUCRETIUS It all depends on how fast you're going Tending towards light, sound Or the quiet of mere polarity Objects: Slowness Screen A walking sieve Wide-open and nowhere The mountains themselves Picked up into turnips, trees Wander as

Philip Whalen The Road Runner THE ROAD RUNNER *For L.J.Reynolds *Thin l

Charles Olson Reading at Berkeley: Coyote 1966, top of page 18 as transcribed by Zoe Brown:- Olson: And I'm going to read you also a poem, Maximus 10, after I read you the next poem I propose to read, which is Maximus 9---- But my point is, I want

All things now rise, and the cries of men to be born in ways afresh, aside from all old narratives, away from intervals too wide to mark the grasses ( not those on which cattle feed, or single stars which show the way to buy bad

The cries rise, & one of us has not even eyes to see the night's sky burning, or the hollows made coves of mist & frost, the barns covered over, and nothing in the night but two of us following the blind highway to catch all glimpses of the settling,

An Ode on Nativity All cries rise, & the three of us observe how fast Orion marks midnight at the climax of the sky while the boat of the moon settles as red in the southwest as the orb of her was, for this boy, once, th

The Ring Of It was the west wind caught her up, as she rose from the genital wave, and bore her from the delicate foam, home to her isle and those lovers of the difficult, the hours of the golden day welcomed her, clad her, were as though they h

The poem called RIDING THRU M?DRID Talk with the Trees and Speak with the Trees and Get it on with the Trees They know the earth best Stand up in the Trees They see straight to Heaven And they have heaved in waves Their deposits into Earth The

FLESH Awful rushes at times floating out in that emptiness don't answer nothing for no one. Seeing dear flesh float by- days emptied of sun and wind, hold on to trees and dirt. Want it under me, body, want legs to keep working- don't think anym

Oh NoIf you wander far enoughYou will come to itand when you get therethey will give you a place to sit  for yourself only, in a nice chair,and all your friends will be therewith smiles on their facesand they will likewise all have places.

A Book Of Music   by Jack Spicer   Coming at an end, the loversAre exhausted like two swimmers. WhereDid it end? There is no telling. No love isLike an ocean with the dizzy procession of the waves' boundariesFrom which two can e

19Come to knowThe white field falling from the houseWhere afternoon runs into the SunThe snowe filled fieldBeneath itThe red floor of iceA blue space to keep it inHis Newengland frontier press 1970  

Stephen Hawking's Zero-G Flight Booked, Renowned British Physicist ... Song: The Astronauts             for clair oursler On the bed of the vast promiscuityof the poet's senses is turnedthe multip

The Locust Tree in FlowerAmongofgreenstiiffoldbrightbrokenbranchcomewhitesweetMayagainWCW. 'Collected Earlier Poems' page 93 (MacGibbon & Kee, 1951)

Robert Creeley from Cento Magazine Oh, do you remember...         Remember sweet Ed who despite being dead

                   THE KULTCHURAL EXCHANGE                   &nbs

The Air of June Sings Quietly and while at rest on the trim grass I have gazed,admonished myself for having never been here at the graveside and read the names of my Time Wanderers.And now, the light noise of the children at play on the inscribed

from CANTO CXV