Stephen Dobyns

Stephen Dobyns Poems

1. Yellow Beak 6/18/2015
2. The Street 9/30/2015
3. Over a Cup of Coffee 8/27/2016
4. It's Like This 8/27/2016
5. Lost 8/27/2016
6. Pursuit 8/27/2016
7. Waking 8/27/2016
8. Where We Are 8/27/2016
9. Why Fool Around? 8/27/2016
10. Thus He Endured 8/27/2016
11. Thelonious Monk 8/27/2016
12. The Invitations Overhead 8/27/2016
13. Cezanne and the Love of Color 8/27/2016
14. Cecil 8/27/2016
15. Sun Gazers 8/27/2016
16. Cezanne's Seclusion 8/27/2016
17. Grief 8/27/2016
18. Cezanne's Success 8/27/2016
19. The Birth Of Angels 8/27/2016
20. Do They Have A Reason? 8/27/2016
21. The Last Take-Out Supper 8/27/2016
23. Pablo Neruda 8/27/2016
24. At the Ocean He Studied the Waves 8/27/2016
25. Sometimes Confusion Was Veil 8/27/2016
26. The Clouds Above the Mountains 8/27/2016
27. The New Austerity 8/27/2016
28. Visitor 8/27/2016
29. Consolations of Water 8/27/2016
30. The Body's Joy 8/27/2016
31. Song of Basic Necessities 8/27/2016
32. Can Poetry Matter? 8/27/2016
33. How To Like It 8/27/2016
34. Oh, Immobility, Death 8/27/2016
35. No Map 8/27/2016
36. Freight Cars 8/27/2016
37. Cemetery Nights 8/27/2016
38. Tomatoes 8/27/2016
39. The Delicate, Plummeting Bodies 8/27/2016
40. Loud Music 1/13/2003
Best Poem of Stephen Dobyns

Loud Music

My stepdaughter and I circle round and round.
You see, I like the music loud, the speakers
throbbing, jam-packing the room with sound whether
Bach or rock and roll, the volume cranked up so
each bass notes is like a hand smacking the gut.
But my stepdaughter disagrees. She is four
and likes the music decorous, pitched below
her own voice-that tenuous projection of self.
With music blasting, she feels she disappears,
is lost within the blare, which in fact I like.
But at four what she wants is self-location
and uses her voice as a porpoise uses
its sonar: to...

Read the full of Loud Music

The Street

Across the street, the carpenter carries a golden
board across one shoulder, much as he bears the burdens
of his life. Dressed in white, his only weakness is
temptation. Now he builds another wall to screen him.

The little girl pursues her bad red ball, hits it once
with her blue racket, hits it once again. She must
teach it the rules balls must follow and it turns her
quite wild to see how it leers at her, then winks.

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