Bill Knott Poems

I examine
my skin

searching for
...

All it takes is Laura Riding's riding-
crop across my butt, and I'm off:
Git-up horsie she cries astride me as
...

I lay down in the empty street and parked
My feet against the gutter's curb while from
...

Who whispers here is forgotten.

Saliva's emptiest fruit
adorns the stones,
...

One day we notice that the sun
needs feeding. Immediately
a crash program begins: we fill rockets
with wheat, smoke-rings, razorblades, then,
...

Satiety help me I have inhabit
of this world. Extant upon its designs
to be more aimlessly fluttering at
the window, to shadow all the patterns
...

(Nonasyllabics)

In retrospect the tragic nature
of sea is a taste wept too daily,
...

I'm tired of murdering children.
Once, long ago today, they wanted to live;
now I feel Vietnam the place
where rigor mortis is beginning to set-in upon me.
...

Many decades after graduation
the students sneak back onto
the school-grounds at night
and within the pane-lit windows
...