Rich Harney

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.
...

After the rain


What am I to do
...

We use to play on the hill,
me and the so many
neighborhood boys.
At three I was the
...

a Japanese girl sat
on the drums—
upon a stool
rather,
...

The cattle and the fog in the meadow low,
Each to each they watch the pithy sun retreat.
Then nigh as darkness settles close around,
One lone star lends its shy,it's spangles down
...

A walk in the woods—
Tell it to me—
Not the leaves
So auburn in their coterie
...

You.

be it
see it
...

There's a fancy bird singing a fancy bird song
And it whistled a glad melody.
I watched as it feathered and dipped along,
And a black rosy finch was he,
...

I turned the leaf over
Again and again,
Each vain creaked
A brittle red crackle.
...

How will the day end?
Stumbling along,
It grey, what's the matter?
Your sky is all wrong!
...

the ballerina
sat on the
sidewalk
shoes not
...