Kenneth Patchen (13 December 1911 - 8 January 1972 / Ohio)
As We Are So Wonderfully Done With Each Other
As we are so wonderfully done with each other
We can walk into our separate sleep
On floors of music where the milkwhite cloak of childhood lies
O my lady, my fairest dear, my sweetest, loveliest one
Your lips have splashed my dull house with the speech of flowers
My hands are hallowed where they touched over your
It is good to be weary from that brilliant work
It is being God to feel your breathing under me
A waterglass on the bureau fills with morning . . .
Don’t let anyone in to wake us.
Kenneth Patchen's Other Poems
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- Do the Dead Know what Time It Is?
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- In the footsteps of the walking air
- Irkalla's White Caves
- Let Us Have Madness
- My Generation Reading The Newspapers
- Saturday Night in the Parthenon
- The Artist's Duty
- The Cloth Of The Tempest
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