Skip to main content

We’re sorry, but that article moved when we redesigned our website.

Error message

The page you requested does not exist. For your convenience, a search was performed using the query evans ghost poem.
Your search for "" gave back 2246 results.
Excerpt On the road to Marathon, Hwy. 90, just outside of Alpine, Texas, the gravestones stand chalk white under the thunderheads of summer, the afternoon rain in a slow roll across the earth’s wide amphitheater, from Fort Davis to here, where I stand wit ...
Excerpt I,   Post Exchange No roses in their visors thrust, Nor ribbons from their lances stream, Jeb Stuart’s golden sash is dust, And Sweeney by a juke-box dreams. As knights in dirty armor range To rifle in bright corridors The treasure chests of Post ...
Excerpt I breathe the leaves of the basil It has news for me— For all my senses I breathe the leaves of the basil It has news for me— For all my senses * Old, I strive for wisdom As the sage bush speaks, clearly, Many-leaved, grey and silver * Solace for ...
Naked women are the best You meet them in cornfields and meadows They are naked and the moon is yellow and it is summer with a bounty of apricots and plums and then it is autumn and you meet them in the city You meet the naked women in cafes at parties or ...
Excerpt When you parted the muslin curtains, the white branches of winter trees became the arms of girls in their spring frocks in April and May. Updated Date Monday, October 5, 2015- 09:00 When you parted the muslin curtains, the white branches of winter ...
It is hard to please the dead, they have such high standards. Mint sauce? Pearls? The window seat or aisle? They sleep deeply, the sleep we met as teenagers curled in the rich silt-beds of new pleasure. It is hard even getting them to answer. Banana Maple ...
Durable goods, sweet and crude, I calculate your worth by the glory available, divide by dollars spent, my relief, the exact nature and angle of my pleasure: abide with me, things say. We won’t leave you here alone. Lipstick, pantyhose (Donna Karan), A-li ...
Excerpt Is it sweat grown sweet from age that draws you back to undo this stack of dog-eared yellow sheets, or some other message seen in the stains of coffee cups, glasses, even burns that give off faint smoke like talk that lingers in the hair, the clot ...
Before these statues, before there were sculptors or even famous men, before rhododendrons or reflecting pools, before, perhaps, water itself, my father lived in the city of bald tires and overbites. He left it so I wouldn’t have to & in leaving, ensu ...
Excerpt   1 Oh, yesterday, that one, we all cry out. Oh, that one! How rich and possible everything was! How ripe, ready, lavish, and filled with excitement—how hopeful we were on those summer days, under the clean, white racing clouds. Oh, yesterday! 2 I ...

Pages