William Morris Meredith Jr.
William Morris Meredith Jr. Poems
|4.||Five Accounts Of A Monogamous Man||1/12/2012|
|5.||Hazard Faces A Sunday In The Decline||1/12/2012|
|6.||“do Not Embrace Your Mind’s New Negro Friend”||1/12/2012|
|8.||Notes For An Elegy||1/12/2012|
|11.||In Loving Memory Of The Late Author Of Dream Songs||1/12/2012|
|13.||The Open Sea||1/12/2012|
|14.||The Wreck Of The Thresher||1/12/2012|
|17.||The Jain Bird Hospital In Delhi||1/12/2012|
|18.||Love Letter From An Impossible Land||1/12/2012|
|20.||Thoughts On One’s Head||1/12/2012|
|21.||Effort At Speech||1/12/2012|
|24.||Accidents Of Birth||1/12/2012|
Comments about William Morris Meredith Jr.
Here at the seashore they use the clouds over & over
again, like the rented animals in Aïda.
In the late morning the land breeze
turns and now the extras are driving
all the white elephants the other way.
What language are the children shouting in?
He is lying on the beach listening.
The sand knocks like glass, struck by bare heels.
He tries to remember snow noise.
Would powder snow ping like that?
But you don't lie with your ear to powder snow.
Why doesn't the girl who takes care
of the children, a Yale girl without flaw,
know the difference...
Touching your goodness, I am like a man
Who turns a letter over in his hand
And you might think this was because the hand
was unfamiliar but, truth is, the man
Has never had a letter from anyone;
And now he is both afraid of what it means
And ashamed because he has no other means
To find out what it says than to ask someone.