Gregory Corso Night Poems

  • 1.
    1
    I am a great American
    I am almost nationalistic about it!
    I love America like a madness!
    ...
  • 2.
    When I laid aside the verses of Mimnermus,
    I lived a life of canned heat and raw hands,
    alone, not far from my body did I wander,
    walked with a hope of a sudden dreamy forest of gold.
    ...
  • 3.
    Last night I drove a car
    not knowing how to drive
    not owning a car
    I drove and knocked down
    ...
  • 4.
    Budger of history Brake of time You Bomb
    Toy of universe Grandest of all snatched sky I cannot hate you
    Do I hate the mischievous thunderbolt the jawbone of an ass
    The bumpy club of One Million B.C. the mace the flail the axe
    ...
  • 5.
    With a love a madness for Shelley
    Chatterton Rimbaud
    and the needy-yap of my youth
    has gone from ear to ear:
    ...
  • 6.
    niverse Grandest of all snatched sky I cannot hate you
    Do I hate the mischievous thunderbolt the jawbone of an ass
    The bumpy club of One Million B.C. the mace the flail the axe
    Catapult Da Vinci tomahawk Cochise flintlock Kidd dagger Rathbone
    ...
  • 7.
    O this political air so heavy with the bells
    and motors of a slow night, and no place to rest
    but rain to walkâ??How it rings the Washington streets!
    The umbrellaâ??d congressmen; the rapping tires
    ...
  • 8.
    Should I get married? Should I be Good?
    Astound the girl next door with my velvet suit and faustaus hood?
    Don't take her to movies but to cemeteries
    tell all about werewolf bathtubs and forked clarinets
    ...
Total 8 Night Poems by Gregory Corso

Top 10 most used topics by Gregory Corso

Life 11 God 10 I Love You 9 Love 9 Sad 9 Death 9 Time 9 Never 8 Night 8 World 7

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Andrew Lang Poem
Ballade Of The Midnight Forest
 by Andrew Lang

Still sing the mocking fairies, as of old,
Beneath the shade of thorn and holly-tree;
The west wind breathes upon them, pure and cold,
And wolves still dread Diana roaming free
In secret woodland with her company.
'Tis thought the peasants' hovels know her rite
When now the wolds are bathed in silver light,
And first the moonrise breaks the dusky grey,
...

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