Frank Stanford Poems
|1.||Circle Of Lorca||9/4/2014|
|2.||Everybody Who Is Dead||9/4/2014|
|4.||Friend Of The Enemy||9/4/2014|
|6.||The Forgotten Madmen of Ménilmontant||6/25/2015|
|8.||Planning The Disappearance Of Those Who Have Gone||9/4/2014|
|9.||Play In Which Darkness Falls||9/4/2014|
|11.||Faith, Dogma, And Heresy||9/4/2014|
|13.||In Another Room I Am Drinking Eggs From A Boot||9/4/2014|
|14.||The Arkansas Prison System||9/4/2014|
|17.||Freedom, Revolt, And Love||1/20/2003|
Comments about Frank Stanford
Freedom, Revolt, And Love
They caught them.
They were sitting at a table in the kitchen.
It was early.
They had on bathrobes.
They were drinking coffee and smiling.
She had one of his cigarillos in her fingers.
She had her legs tucked up under her in the chair.
They saw them through the window.
She thought of them stepping out of a bath
And him wrapping cloth around her.
He thought of her walking up in a small white building,
He thought of stones settling into the ground.
Then they were gone.
Then they came in through the back.
Her cat ran out.
The house was near the ...
Faith, Dogma, And Heresy
It was Sunday, before dinner.
My uncles were listening to the opera.
O.Z. and I carried my brother in
And laid him on the table.
The women started screaming.
My brother raised up on his side
With dried blood on his hands,
We killed those goddamn Canale brothers
And nobody is ever going to touch us!