Advice: A Book of Poems. Maxwell Bodenheim

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       Maxwell Bodenheim

      Advice: A Book of Poems

      Published by Good Press, 2019

       [email protected]

      EAN 4057664097255

Table of Contents

       ADVICE TO A STREET-PAVEMENT

       ADVICE TO A BUTTER-CUP

       ADVICE TO A RIVER STEAM-BOAT

       FOUNDRY WORKERS

       ADVICE TO A HORNÈD TOAD

       ADVICE TO A FOREST

       RATTLESNAKE MOUNTAIN FABLE I

       ADVICE TO A BLUE-BIRD

       TO A FRIEND

       ADVICE TO A WOMAN

       RATTLESNAKE MOUNTAIN FABLE II

       ADVICE TO A BUTTERFLY

       ADVICE TO A POOL

       WHEN FOOLS DISPUTE

       ADVICE TO A GRASS-BLADE

       EAST-SIDE: NEW YORK

       TO A MAN

       THE CHILD MEDITATES

       PIERROT OBJECTS

       COLUMBINE REFLECTS

       RATTLE-SNAKE MOUNTAIN DIALOGUE

       DIALOGUE BETWEEN A PAST AND PRESENT POET

       SMILES

       THE COURTESAN CHATS

       THE MOUNTEBANK CRITICIZES

       TO LI T’AI PO

       INSANITY

       TRACK-WORKERS

       FIGURE

       NEGROES

       BROADWAY

       FIFTH AVENUE (New York)

       YOUNG WOMAN

       TWO WOMEN ON A STREET

       ADVICE TO MAPLE-TREES

       BOARDING-HOUSE EPISODE

       VAUDEVILLE MOMENT

       TO ORRICK JOHNS

       YOUNG POET

       STEEL-MILLS: SOUTH CHICAGO

       SOUTH STATE STREET: CHICAGO

      ADVICE

ADVICE TO A STREET-PAVEMENT

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      Lacerated grey has bitten

      Into your shapeless humility.

      Little episodes of roving

      Strew their hieroglyphics on your muteness.

      Life has given you heavy stains

      Like an ointment growing stale.

      Endless feet tap over you

      With a maniac insistence.

      O unresisting street-pavement,

      Keep your passive insolence

      At the dwarfs who scorn you with their feet.

      Only one who lies upon his back

      Can disregard the stars.

ADVICE TO A BUTTER-CUP

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      Undistinguished butter-cup

      Lost among myriads of others,

      To the red ant eyeing you

      You are giant stillness.

      He pauses on the boulder of a clod,

      Baffled by your nearness to the sky.

      But to the black loam at your feet

      You are the atom of a pent-up dream.