how can I, born in evil days
And fresh from failure,
ask a kindness of Fate?
-- Written A.D.
Po Chu-i, balding old
What's the use?
I think of
Uneasily entering the gorges of the
When you were being towed up the
Toward some political job or other
city of Chungshou.
You made it, I guess,
But it is 1960, it is almost spring
And the tall rocks of Minneapolis
my own black twilight
Of bamboo ropes and
Where is Yuan Chen, the friend you
Where is the sea, that once solved the whole
Of the Midwest?Where is Minneapolis? I can
But the great terrible oak tree darkening
Did you find the city of isolated men
Or have you been holding the end of
a frayed rope
For a thousand years?
Read poems about / on: city,