Billy Collins

(22 March 1941 - / New York City)

Billy Collins Poems

1. Workshop -new- 4/14/2015
2. Walking Across The Atlantic 1/13/2003
3. Tomes 1/13/2003
4. Today 1/13/2003
5. Thesaurus 1/13/2003
6. The Only Day In Existence 1/13/2003
7. The Names 10/5/2011
8. The Iron Bridge 1/13/2003
9. The First Night -new- 4/8/2015
10. The First Dream 1/13/2003
11. The Best Cigarette 1/13/2003
12. The Art Of Drowning 1/13/2003
13. Taking Off Emily Dickinson's Clothes 1/7/2004
14. Study In Orange And White 1/13/2003
15. Snow Day 1/13/2003
16. Shoveling Snow With Buddha 1/13/2003
17. Reading An Anthology Of Chinese Poems Of The Sung Dynasty, I Pause To Admire The Length And Clarity Of Their Titles 1/13/2003
18. Pinup 1/13/2003
19. On Turning Ten 1/13/2003
20. Nostalgia 1/13/2003
21. Nightclub 1/13/2003
22. Night Golf 3/9/2015
23. Neither Snow 1/13/2003
24. Marginalia 1/13/2003
25. Man Listening To Disc 1/13/2003
26. Madmen 1/13/2003
27. Litany 1/13/2003
28. Japan 1/13/2003
29. Invention 1/13/2003
30. Introduction To Poetry 1/13/2003
31. I Go Back To The House For A Book 1/13/2003
32. I Chop Some Parsley While Listening To Art Blakey's Version Of "Three Blind Mice" 1/13/2003
33. I Ask You 1/13/2003
34. Forgetfulness 1/13/2003
35. For Bartleby The Scrivener 1/13/2003
36. Flames 1/13/2003
37. Fishing On The Susquehanna In July 1/13/2003
38. Embrace 2/13/2007
39. Dear Reader 1/13/2003
40. Consolation 1/13/2003
Best Poem of Billy Collins

Forgetfulness

The name of the author is the first to go
followed obediently by the title, the plot,
the heartbreaking conclusion, the entire novel
which suddenly becomes one you have never read,
never even heard of,

as if, one by one, the memories you used to harbor
decided to retire to the southern hemisphere of the brain,
to a little fishing village where there are no phones.

Long ago you kissed the names of the nine Muses goodbye
and watched the quadratic equation pack its bag,
and even now as you memorize the order of the planets,

something else is slipping ...

Read the full of Forgetfulness

Madmen

They say you can jinx a poem
if you talk about it before it is done.
If you let it out too early, they warn,
your poem will fly away,
and this time they are absolutely right.

Take the night I mentioned to you
I wanted to write about the madmen,
as the newspapers so blithely call them,

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