William Greco Poems

stirred not at all
like a wilderness of dreams
or tremulous glimpses
of awakening
...

drinking champagne
in savage champaign
before I was born
after I died
...

in the dead of (winter) night
in the dead of winter (night)
mime was executed for stealing pancakes
...

they say that
traveling carnival
will visit our town soon
whether the weather
...

where the hell
do they come from?
and where do they go
after the work is finished?
...

mysterious figures
wander in the countryside
aimlessly in mud and dust
...

cold wars
and silvery spoons
make me solemn
in self-closing eyes
...

let's go on the hill
and let the dying sunbeams
drift away our sorrows
let's go to the river
...

gods and monsters
and dogs in front of
graveyard gates
don't think about the future
...

utterly bewildered
I stood by the nightfall
of stilly midsummer
withering away
...