Rich Harney Poems

As upside down as bats and things
And dreams that dream of apron strings
Is the thoughtthat I could be
A Mad Hatter.
...

My window is gazing out upon a sun,
Between the four frames of casement
There is love and there is one.
...

A lilac fell…

(She didn't mean to)
...

Is it so?


Is it so, this broken stone,
...

When the fainting robin has cooled in my breast
I suppose I'll know something then,
Maybe you could say what you know of this, Lest
You and I look on together — till when
...

Two clothespins held the August heat
and several hundred more
the stories
of sweat and poverty
...

A few scattered days, all red and brown
Slipped in quiet at summer's end.
Perhaps they've come to mend
Some faint heart ache in tow,
...

All the ticklers were in,
a sort of night gravity
to wherever He might
be sipping Pabst Blue.
...

Anymore the leaves are not sitting
Loft in the trees or low,
Quiet you see as summer air knitting
A hot August breeze so slow.
...

Alpine has comely, pulchritudinous brown rim,
Tips of volcanos watch me as I like it, therein;
I shall be as happy for a moment's notice,
And the valley and the salvias sing.
...