Mary Tyler Moore
Few artists transform a medium and deliver pure pleasure their audience. I can’t begin to recount the...
Few artists transform a medium and deliver pure pleasure their audience. I can’t begin to recount the...
Ghost I pretend to live In attic doors and radiators My cold kiss taps Lips close to ear Caress careless...
Every Day Someone flies And someone crawls Through the parking lot Of a shopping mall Or over that spot And...
Sleep Puppets filled the dark With round ivory faces, black eyes, Carved wooden noses, at the bars of the...
6:59 6:59 and I’m still thinking about the door On State Street with the flaking paint On either side...
DRIVEWAY DREAMS Static in the attic room. The cherry stripped of leaves Unlit strands of spherical lamps...
SONNET I don’t know where I am; it’s dark And quiet like a page full of voices Printed on the blank...
Blind correspondents meet to grill Inane candidates about their beliefs Sun through the high airport windows...