Sonnet

what prize did you hope to hold in those smooth
hands for the plan sketched in cloud and unbuilt—
what melody might have flown forth if you
freed yourself from petty politics of
the boardroom and tested those scrawny wings—
but you sat with a job safe as socks and
a single number near the cold solstice

now in the damp the aches where you bend while
those black glacier teeth topple in tepid
tea you mumble to the cat it wasn’t
all bad these bloody feet could still march this
hand salute the lurking shadow who smiles
at the coughing cubicle dwellers soon
to be churned into cheap fertilizer

Sonnet

sweet voices in a mist-filled wood like a memory of the moon just a few drops of blood from your yearly broken back and you can play until fat with all the things this difficult crossword puzzle doesn’t attract me now that some grey has snuck in so why not stay I lost my train of thought again but with the mental gps installed it was no problem to rejoin and then pick from one of the available choices and at last enter new star city

Sonnet In Which the Last Two Lines Have Shipped But Are Running Late

do you clap when it arrives in crumpled
corrugated cardboard dropped on the steps
of your demand and expectation—me?
I long to hear the soft song of
the box cutter the little sigh
as light uncovers the gifts of darkness

but enough of my many weaknesses
let’s upgrade our kitchens hats and bookshelves
lounge in the recycled air gulp supplements
unthinking of the debt and folks living
in fire and try to laugh since we never
got the hang of writing protest songs

Sonnet

since the selfie came out blurry
giving that mosquito my cheek
to suck its snack while the old crows
guffawed my self-promotion by
the abandoned railroad tracks may
not have been my finest moment

so in this phlegmy rain I wait
for the final ferry and this
may be the encephalitis
talking but I feel I grow fat
or waste on the food of strangers’

thumbs as I grope
in the dark for
a light so you
can learn my name

Sonnet

skimmed emails we deleted too quickly
may have mentioned the forest of bright spears
and ships ready to launch, but once we saw the
reports on the quarterly report from
Ichthyosaur & Associates we
had no doubt what they were up to with those
color-shifting lobbyists and gift baskets
reeking of brine and though they wrote of missed
opportunities no one missed the flotsam
flecked with blood, tossed by ceaseless waves that could
break on our belovèd beans just learning
to climb towards those heavy clouds pierced by sun—

he stopped, mumbled something roses fingers
dawn and walked away from the empty chairs

The Carrier of Ladders
Poems by W. S. Merwin

DISCARD

Ferguson Library
Date Due

Jun – 3 1975


Jun 9 1976

Nov 16 ’76
Jan 24 1977
Aug 15 1977
Feb 21 ’78

Jan 11 1979

May 19 1979

Jun 13 1979
Nov 22 1980

May 6 1981
Jun 22 1982
Dec 4 1982

May 25 1983
May 28 1987
RENEWAL
Jun 17 1987

RENEWAL

Jul 7 – 1987

Jul 28 1987
RENEWAL
Aug 17 1987
Nov 2 1989
Jun 11 1990
RENEWAL
Jul 2 1990

RENEWAL
Jul 16 1990

RENEWAL

Jul 30 1990
Sep 7 1990
Oct 11 1990

Oct 31 1990