John Ciardi Poems
|2.||High Tension Lines Across A Landscape||6/24/2014|
|3.||Port Of Aerial Embarkation||6/24/2014|
|4.||An Emeritus Addresses The School||6/24/2014|
|5.||Most Like An Arch This Marriage||6/24/2014|
|6.||Nothing Is Really Hard But To Be Real—||6/24/2014|
|7.||An Apartment With A View||6/24/2014|
|10.||Bees And Morning Glories||6/24/2014|
|11.||The Pilot In The Jungle||6/24/2014|
|13.||Men Marry What They Need||6/24/2013|
|16.||About The Teeth Of Sharks||6/24/2014|
|17.||Why Nobody Pets The Lion At The Zoo||6/24/2014|
Yesterday Mrs. Friar phoned.'Mr. Ciardi,
how do you do?' she said. 'I am sorry to say
this isn't exactly a social call. The fact is
your dog has just deposited-forgive me-
a large repulsive object in my petunias.'
I thought to ask, 'Have you checked the rectal grooving
for a positive I.D.?' My dog, as it happened,
was in Vermont with my son, who had gone fishing-
if that's what one does with a girl, two cases of beer,
and a borrowed camper. I guessed I'd get no trout.
But why lose out on organic gold for a wise crack
An Apartment With A View
I am in Rome, Vatican bells tolling
a windowful of God and Bernini.
My neighbor, the Pope, has died
and God overnight, has wept
black mantles over the sainted
stone age whose skirted shadows
flit through to the main cave.
I nurse a cold. It must be error