Little Miss Muffet
Little Miss Muffet
Sat on a tuffet,
Eating of curds and whey;
Along came a spider,
Who sat down beside her
And frightened Miss Muffet away.
Little Poll Parrot
Little Poll Parrot
Sat in his garret
Eating toast and tea;
A little brown mouse
Jumped into the house,
And stole it all away.
Little Robin Redbreast
Little Robin Redbreast
Sat upon a rail;
Niddle noble went his head,
Widdle waggle went his tail.
Little Robin Redbreast
Came to visit me;
This is what he whistled,
Thank you for my tea.
Little Robin Redbreast
Little Robin Redbreast
Sat upon a tree;
Up went Pussy-cat,
Down went he.
Down came Pussy-cat,
And away Robin ran;
Says little Robin Redbreast
“Catch me if you can.”
Little Robin Redbreast
Hopped upon a wall;
Pussy-cat jumped after him,
And almost got a fall.
Little Tommy Tucker
Little Tom Tucker
Sings for his supper.
What shall we give him?
White bread and butter.
How shall he cut it
Without a knife?
How will he be married
Without a wife?[
Lives of the Poets
One stood among the violets
listening to a bird. One went to the toilet
and was struck by the moon. One felt hopeless
until a trumpet crash, and then lo,
he became a diamond. I have a shovel.
Can I turn it into a poem? On my stove
I’ m boiling some milk thistle.
I hope it will turn into a winged thesis
before you stop reading. Look, I’ m topless!
Listen: approaching hooves!
One drowned in a swimming pool.
One removed his shoes
and yearned off a bridge. One lives
with Alzheimer’ s in a state facility, spittle
Lives of the Watchmakers
Surely there are teeth so small.
I have listened for their turning,
this frail swell and fall
like old blood yearning
upwards through the skin of days.
Slowly, I am learning
their count, though numbers fray
in me, and the loaded instants
graft, coming always
Living Among the Dead
First there were those who died
before I was born.
It was as if they had just left
and their shadows would
slip out after them
under the door so recently closed
the air in its path was still
swirling to rest.
Some of the furniture came from them,
I was told, and one day
I opened two chests
of drawers to learn what the dead kept.
Living at the End of Time
There is so much sweetness in children’ s voices,
And so much discontent at the end of day,
And so much satisfaction when a train goes by.
I don’ t know why the rooster keeps crying,
Nor why elephants keep raising their trunks,
Nor why Hawthorne kept hearing trains at night.
A handsome child is a gift from God,
And a friend is a vein in the back of the hand,
And a wound is an inheritance from the wind.