Gay Fay

Gay Fay Poems

Some read in bed.
I listen,
fall asleep to Homer's mayhem,
the tape on endless play
...

'My paintings are my children.'
Fool! Come meet
An artist with no babies.
You bet she'd sell
...

What stern face gives water at the crossroads?
Fashioned in stone by nameless hands,
he glowers through centuries, waiting for thirsty passers-by
who bow before the dour eyes,
...

I’ve just understood:
the longer the flight,
the bigger the pack.
Nashville to Baltimore
...

One must move on.
Past violation.
...

The Best Poem Of Gay Fay

Sarpedon

Some read in bed.
I listen,
fall asleep to Homer's mayhem,
the tape on endless play
until I wake.
Achilles' wrath and grief I hear
in disjunct pieces,
fashioning the plot from many nights' beginnings.
Though once the poet,
perhaps disgruntled by my snippet listening,
played me an imp's trick:
A nightmare's murderous demon pinioned me and cooed,
'Hector has your arms.
Hector has your arms.”
I struggled, terrified, to waking,
only to hear Achilles' woe
at loss of friend and armor:
Hector had his arms, indeed,
and Homer had his laugh at my expense

Gay Fay Comments

Gay Fay Popularity

Gay Fay Popularity

Close
Error Success