right_poets (original) (raw)

06 November 2009 @ 11:53 am

Where I built my house
by David Ignatow
from

Living is what I wanted

Does being born matter
now that I am leaving it behind? Where
is a world I can go to
other than this ground
on which I walk and where I built my house?

Am I complaining of the shortness of life?
I am, and that makes me much like everyone else.
Follow Adam, the leader, into the ground.

20 February 2009 @ 09:24 am

e.e. cummings

O the sun comes up-up-up in the opening
sky(the all the
any merry every pretty each
bird sings birds sing
gay-be-gay because today’s today)the
romp cries i and the me purrs
you and the gentle
who-horns says-does moo-woo
(the prance with the
three white its stimpstamps)
the grintgrunt wugglewiggle
champychumpchomps yes
the speckled strut begins to scretch and
scratch-scrutch
and scritch(while
the no-she-yes-he fluffies tittle
tattle did-he-does-she)& the
ree ray rye roh
rowster shouts
rawrOO