Any Good Poem

"Otherwise it's spring, and everything looks frail; the sky is baby blue, and the just-unfurling leaves are full of infant chlorophyll, the very tint of inexperience."

"And the sky went wan, and the wind came cold, And the sun rose dripping, a bucketful of gold."

"I shall forget civilization, I shall forget color, caste, I shall move in a fantastic world of raceless men and women..."

"rescued from the filth of paradise, hosed off, shining, my cracked fingernails caked with dirt."

"The diameter of the bomb was thirty centimeters and the diameter of its effective range about seven meters, with four dead and eleven wounded."

"The buttonholes, the sizing, the facing, the characters. Printed in black on neckband and tail. The shape, the label, the labor, the color, the shade. The shirt."

"It was word and note, The wind the wind had meant to be—A little through the lips and throat. The aim was song—the wind could see."

"But where are the songs of praise for church basements? That lower level, that rock bottom room sunken & reverent with flickering lights..."

"We were three men alone in a ward room built for fifty, dust film on the floor..."

"Soon the train will stop. The border guard will give me back my passport – but I know we’ll be back again soon."

"As we enter the old hilltown graveyard, stone rows rise toward the church like a long flight of stillness..."

"I’m never finished answering to the dead."

"In the corridor, he demands a confession: Who peeled back his bandage? Who let him look?"

"The river is famous to the fish..."

"He's dying on dialysis—I’ve known him since my first days as a doctor, and now he wants to quit."

"For the listener, who listens in the snow, And, nothing himself, beholds Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is."

"Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world..."

"Spray the perfume of your smiles on the incision. Inject the song of life into my veins to wake me up. Gently beat the drum so my mind may dance with yours, my doctor, day and night."

"...my eyes searching for the one skater in every crowd who glides graceful as a god, like my father years ago in his black leather racing skates..."

"My black cat sprints through the kitchen door, a glassy-eyed cottontail hanging limp from his jaws."

"Walk through the garden's dormant splendor. Say only, thank you."

"You will love again the stranger who was your self."

"Hat factories closed quiet as prayer books, and loss lingered in my father’s guts like unswept garbage after a big parade..."

"Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying, eating of the last sweet bite."

"Of her choice virtues only gods should speak, Or English poets who grew up on Greek (I’d have them sing in chorus, cheek to cheek)."

"His wing Scythes down another day, his motion Is that of the honed steel-edge, we hear The crashless fall of stalks of Time."

"The sounds of the world at this late hour sadden you, but then enters the rain, hastening down, the rain that wants to touch everything and almost does."

"My hands grown tired, my head weighed down with dreams..."

"Oh for a stronger magic, that I could wave my arms and reach deep inside my white coat pocket, the mass vanished..."

"And when they bombed other people’s houses, we protested but not enough, we opposed them but not enough..."