William De Witt Snodgrass
The Poet Ridiculed By Hysterical Academics by William De Witt Snodgrass

The Poet Ridiculed By Hysterical Academics by William De Witt Snodgrass

Is it, then, your opinion Women are putty in your hands? Is this the face to launch upon A thousand one night stands? First, please, would you be so kind As to define your ...

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Sitting Outside by William De Witt Snodgrass

Sitting Outside by William De Witt Snodgrass

These lawn chairs and the chaise lounge of bulky redwood were purchased for my father twenty years ago, then plumped down in the yard where he seldom went when he could still work ...

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Song by William De Witt Snodgrass

Song by William De Witt Snodgrass

Observe the cautious toadstools still on the lawn todaythough they grow over-evening; sun shrinks them away.Pale and proper and rootless, they righteously ...

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April Inventory by William De Witt Snodgrass

April Inventory by William De Witt Snodgrass

The green catalpa tree has turnedAll white; the cherry blooms once more.In one whole year I haven't learnedA blessed thing they pay you for.The blossoms snow down in my hair;The ...

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Mementos, 1 by William De Witt Snodgrass

Mementos, 1 by William De Witt Snodgrass

Sorting out letters and piles of my old Canceled checks, old clippings, and yellow note cards That meant something once, I happened to find Your picture. That picture. I ...

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Heart’s Needle by William De Witt Snodgrass

Heart’s Needle by William De Witt Snodgrass

1Child of my winter, bornWhen the new fallen soldiers frozeIn Asia's steep ravines and fouled the snows,When I was tornBy love I could not still,By fear that silenced my cramped ...

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Monet: “les Nymphéas” by William De Witt Snodgrass

Monet: “les Nymphéas” by William De Witt Snodgrass

The eyelids glowing, some chill morning.O world half-known through opening, twilit lids Before the vague face clenches into light;O universal waters like a cloud, Like ...

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Nightwatchman’s Song by William De Witt Snodgrass

Nightwatchman’s Song by William De Witt Snodgrass

After Heinrich I. F. BiberIWhat’s unseen may not exist— Or so those secret powers insist That prowl past nightfall, Enabled by the brain’s blacklist ...

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Pacemaker by William De Witt Snodgrass

Pacemaker by William De Witt Snodgrass

I 'One Snodgrass, two Snodgrass, three Snodgrass, four . . . I took my own rollcall when I counted seconds; 'One two three, Two two three, Three . . .,' the drum score ...

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Magda Goebbels (30 April 1945) by William De Witt Snodgrass

Magda Goebbels (30 April 1945) by William De Witt Snodgrass

(After Dr. Haase gave them shots of morphine, Magda gave each child an ampule of potassium cyanide from a spoon.)This is the needle that we giveSoldiers and children when they ...

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Who Steals My Good Name by William De Witt Snodgrass

Who Steals My Good Name by William De Witt Snodgrass

For the person who obtained my debit card number and spent $11,000 in five daysMy pale stepdaughter, just off the school bus, Scowled, 'Well, that's the last time I say my ...

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A Locked House by William De Witt Snodgrass

A Locked House by William De Witt Snodgrass

As we drove back, crossing the hill,The house stillHidden in the trees, I always thought—A fool’s fear—that it might have caught Fire, someone could have broken in. As if ...

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After Experience Taught Me … by William De Witt Snodgrass

After Experience Taught Me … by William De Witt Snodgrass

After experience taught me that all the ordinary Surroundings of social life are futile and vain; I’m going to show you something very Ugly: someday, it might ...

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Reichsmarschall Hermann Göring (1 April 1945) by William De Witt Snodgrass

Reichsmarschall Hermann Göring (1 April 1945) by William De Witt Snodgrass

(Göring, head of the Luftwaffe, once bragged that if one German city were bombed, they could call him “Meier.” At his Karinhall estate, he questions himself and his disgrace.)And ...

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The Campus On The Hill by William De Witt Snodgrass

The Campus On The Hill by William De Witt Snodgrass

Up the reputable walks of old established treesThey stalk, children of the nouveaux riches; chimesOf the tall Clock Tower drench their heads in blessing: “I don't wanna play at ...

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Vuillard: “the Mother And Sister Of The Artist” by William De Witt Snodgrass

Vuillard: “the Mother And Sister Of The Artist” by William De Witt Snodgrass

(Instructions for the Visit)Admire, when you come here, the glimmering hair Of the girl; praise her paleComplexion. Think well of her dress Though that is somewhat out of ...

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Matisse: ‘The Red Studio’ by William De Witt Snodgrass

Matisse: ‘The Red Studio’ by William De Witt Snodgrass

There is no one here.But the objects: they are real. It is notAs if he had stepped out or moved away;There is no other room and noReturning. Your foot or finger would passThrough, ...

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