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"He hangs in the hall by his black cravat,
The ladies faint, and the children holler:
Only my Daddy could look like that,
And I love my Daddy like he loves his Dollar." |
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William Jay Smith (b. 1918), U.S. poet. American Primitive (l. 9-12). . .
Oxford Book of Short Poems, The. P. J. Kavanagh and James Michie, eds. Oxford University Press.
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"Not ringed but rare, not gilled but polyp-like, having sprung up
overnight—
These mushrooms of the gods, resembling human organs uprooted,
rooted only on the air," |
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William Jay Smith (b. 1918), U.S. poet. Morels (l. 12-13). . .
Book of Nature Poems, A. William Cole, comp. (1969) The Viking Press.
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William Jay Smith
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