Two

Ted Kooser

On a parking lot staircase

I met two fine-looking men

descending, both in slacks

and dress shirts, neckties

much alike, one of the men

in his sixties, the other

a good twenty years older,

unsteady on his polished shoes,

a son and his father, I knew

from their looks, the son with his

right hand on the handrail,

the father, left hand on the left,

and in the middle they were

holding hands, and when I neared,

they opened the simple gate

of their interwoven fingers

to let me pass, then reached out

for each other and continued on.

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I first discovered what was killing these men.
I had three sons who worked with their father in the tunnel:
Cecil, aged 23, Owen, aged 21, Shirley, aged 17.
They used to work in a coal mine, not steady work
for the mines were not going much of the time.
A power Co. foreman learned that we made home brew,
he formed a habit of dropping in evenings to drink,
persuading the boys and my husband —

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the usual rilke by Ernst Jandl

rilke’s separation

the unusual rilke
and the usual rilke
are stuck in their sameness

the unusual rilke
and the usual rilke
would have stayed together

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Paradise Lost: Book 3 (1674 version) by John Milton

HAil holy Light, ofspring of Heav'n first-born,
Or of th' Eternal Coeternal beam
May I express thee unblam'd? since God is light,
And never but in unapproached light
Dwelt from Eternitie, dwelt then in thee,
Bright effluence of bright essence increate.
Or hear'st thou rather pure Ethereal stream,
Whose Fountain who shall tell? before the Sun,
Before the Heavens thou wert, and at the voice
Of God, as with a Mantle didst invest
The rising world of waters dark and deep,
Won from the void and formless infinite.
Thee I re-visit now with bolder wing,
Escap't the Stygian Pool, though long detain'd
In that obscure sojourn, while in my flight

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The Third Hour of the Night by Frank Bidart

When the eye

When the edgeless screen receiving
light from the edgeless universe

When the eye first

When the edgeless screen facing
outward as if hypnotized by the edgeless universe

When the eye first saw that it

Hungry for more light

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Maximus, to Gloucester: Letter 2 by Charles Olson

. . . . . tell you? ha! who
can tell another how
to manage the swimming?

he was right: people

don’t change. They only stand more
revealed. I,
likewise

1

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Andrea del Sarto by Robert Browning

But do not let us quarrel any more,
No, my Lucrezia; bear with me for once:
Sit down and all shall happen as you wish.
You turn your face, but does it bring your heart?
I'll work then for your friend's friend, never fear,
Treat his own subject after his own way,
Fix his own time, accept too his own price,
And shut the money into this small hand
When next it takes mine. Will it? tenderly?
Oh, I'll content him,—but to-morrow, Love!
I often am much wearier than you think,
This evening more than usual, and it seems
As if—forgive now—should you let me sit
Here by the window with your hand in mine
And look a half-hour forth on Fiesole,

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110

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The Father of My Country by Diane Wakoski