Larry Levis Poems
|6.||Elegy With A Chimneysweep Falling Inside It||4/20/2010|
|8.||The Future Of Hands||4/20/2010|
|11.||As It Begins With A Brush Stroke On A Snare Drum||4/20/2010|
|13.||Elegy For Whatever Had A Pattern In It||4/20/2010|
|14.||The Oldest Living Thing In L.A.||4/20/2010|
|15.||Elegy For Poe With The Music Of A Carnival Inside It||4/20/2010|
|16.||Elegy With A Bridle In Its Hand||4/20/2010|
|17.||The Poet At Seventeen||4/20/2010|
|18.||Readings In French||1/20/2003|
|19.||The Clearing Of The Land: An Epitaph||1/20/2003|
|20.||For Zbigniew Herbert, Summer, 1971, Los Angeles||1/20/2003|
|21.||In A Country||1/20/2003|
|22.||Anastasia & Sandman||1/20/2003|
|23.||The Widening Spell Of The Leaves||1/20/2003|
|24.||Those Graves In Rome||1/13/2003|
|25.||As I Move On With You||1/1/2004|
|26.||The Poem You Asked For||1/13/2003|
The Poem You Asked For
My poem would eat nothing.
I tried giving it water
but it said no,
Day after day,
I held it up to the llight,
turning it over,
but it only pressed its lips
more tightly together.
It grew sullen, like a toad
through with being teased.
I offered it money,
my clothes, my car with a full tank.
But the poem stared at the floor.
Finally I cupped it in
my hands, and carried it gently
out into the soft air, into the
evening traffic, wondering how
to end things between us.
Those Graves In Rome
There are places where the eye can starve,
But not here. Here, for example, is
The Piazza Navona, & here is his narrow room
Overlooking the Steps & the crowds of sunbathing
Tourists. And here is the Protestant Cemetery
Where Keats & Joseph Severn join hands
Forever under a little shawl of grass
And where Keats's name isn't even on
His gravestone, because it is on Severn's,