I couldn't walk across that bridge in Hannibal at night. I was carried in a Nash Ambassador. On Gough Street the cars went overhead. I counted two thousand or more one night before I slept. She hit him in the face with her high-heeled shoe as he scrambled around the floor getting away. What am I going to do about the mist and the canning factory in San Jose where I loaded green beans all night? Billions of green beans in the Hanging Gardens off Green Street falling softly on our heads, the dread dope again. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BACON'S EPITAPH, MADE BY HIS MAN by JOHN COTTON (1640-1699) FIVE SOULS by WILLIAM NORMAN EWER THE FISHER by JOHANN WOLFGANG VON GOETHE THE IDEA OF BALANCE IS TO BE FOUND IN HERONS AND LOONS by JAMES HARRISON THE BATTLE OF THE KEGS by FRANCIS HOPKINSON EPITAPH ON HIMSELF by MATTHEW PRIOR THE FIELD MOUSE by WILLIAM SHARP THE RUINES OF TIME by EDMUND SPENSER POEM FOR PICTURE: TO A PORTRAIT BY EDWARD STEICHEN (RACHMANINOFF) by FRANK ANKENBRAND JR. |