Stephen Dunn Poems
|1.||Charlotte Bronte in Leeds Point||6/2/2015|
|2.||Allegory of the Cave||9/18/2015|
|3.||Essay On The Personal||6/1/2016|
|5.||Dismantling the House||1/5/2018|
|6.||In Love, His Grammar Grew||1/5/2018|
|7.||Mary Shelley in Brigantine||1/5/2018|
|8.||Mrs. Cavendish and the Dancer||1/5/2018|
|9.||The Snowmass Cycle||1/5/2018|
|16.||Always Something More Beautiful||12/1/2015|
|17.||The Metaphysicians Of South Jersey||12/21/2015|
|19.||At The Smithville Methodist Church||7/23/2015|
|21.||What Goes On||6/8/2015|
|22.||To A Terrorist||2/13/2015|
|23.||Here And Now||12/1/2014|
|24.||The Routine Things Around The House||12/17/2014|
Comments about Stephen Dunn
How many years I must have yearned
for someone's lips against mind.
Pheromones, newly born, were floating
between us. There was hardly any air.
She kissed me again, reaching that place
that sends messages to toes and fingertips,
then all the way to something like home.
Some music was playing on its own.
Nothing like a woman who knows
to kiss the right thing at the right time,
then kisses the things she's missed.
How had I ever settled for less?
I was thinking this is intelligence,
this is the wisest tongue
since the Oracle got into a ...
What Goes On
After the affair and the moving out,
after the destructive revivifying passion,
we watched her life quiet
into a new one, her lover more and more
on its periphery. She spent many nights
alone, happy for the narcosis
of the television. When she got cancer