Don Yorty

Fucking II, part I: My phallus in a shaft of morning sunlight

… My phallus in a shaft of morning sunlight. Shall we examine it and its environment? Dust is also in this shaft of sunlight in, out of it, on things as equally as the light on the mattress and my … Continue reading →

Sweet Mary

18 Nov ’12

….. I lived at home as a young man full of fears that paralyze I was a believer in truth and the truth was a lie then I slept with Sweet Mary and she made me realize there are more … Continue reading →

Robert Frost reads The Road Not Taken

17 Nov ’12

……. Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth; Then took … Continue reading →

Fucking I: I will come to you with a candle burning

22 Oct ’12

… Ouvrez-moi cette porte où je frappe en pleurant. …………—Apollinaire Open this door where I knock weeping. I I will come to you with a candle burning light a stick of incense comb and braid your hair with sparrows’ feathers … Continue reading →

149

14 Oct ’12

… I wake the snakes on the way to the lake Coiling in leaves, slithering at my feet Half-seen in the low branches, thick brown waists Headless, tailless stone still in wait for me To trip them into slithering again. … Continue reading →

176

13 Oct ’12

… There was a transitory spider’s web clinging to a metaphoric branch of birch that I undid stupidly touching it as I was going down the mountain side, the troubled spider in the middle clinging to a strand of its … Continue reading →

Carmina Catulli: 1 – 7

12 Oct ’12

… What follows are the first seven poems of Catullus in Latin with humble translations by me; I also do a reading in Latin of Catullus 2: Passer. Hope you enjoy it and get a feeling for the sounds. The … Continue reading →

Where the Heart Is

10 Oct ’12

I’m on a grand jury, state of New York, special narcotics, ten in the morning to one in the afternoon every weekday for a month. It takes thirty-five minutes to get there by bus, forty-five minutes if I walk through … Continue reading →

200

10 Oct ’12

… Out of the drizzle and the fog they come boys dressed up like soldiers though they’re more like the hands that wind around a clock. Out of the Scotch mist’s chilly smoke and the cry of gulls they stop … Continue reading →

79

10 Oct ’12

A squirrel just walked across my shoulder Like I wasn’t there and didn’t matter Part of the bench, a kind of nothingness Who thought for a moment that a hand pressed On him like an old friend’s familiar Enough to … Continue reading →

108

9 Oct ’12

How do you teach someone something they don’t Know? The first thing that comes to mind is by Example. Look a student in the eye Even if she’s blind; otherwise she won’t Understand you. The stone deaf will hear love … Continue reading →

92

8 Oct ’12

… … To be understood words are objective yet we understand them subjectively. When Willa Cather writes, “The long main street began at the church, the town seemed to flow from it like a stream from a spring,” the prose … Continue reading →