Donald Evans Poems

Born with a monocle he stares at life,
And sends his soul on pensive promenades;
He pays a high price for discarded gods,
...

Wistfully shimmering, shamelessly wise and weak,
He lives in pawn, pledging a battered name;
He loves his failures as one might love fame,
...

He polished snubs till they were regnant art,
Curling their shameless toilets round the hour.
Each lay upon his lips an exquisite flower
...

Some must be sober then to grow the vine,
And some to tread the press; others to sell
The fluid flame that lights the invisible,
And pours over fear a purple anodyne-
...

There was a snake in the gutter-
She was positive of that.
It had shown its head twice until the snow had forced it back-
When it snowed it was good for begging, too;
...