Already old, the question Who shall die? Becomes unspoken Who is innocent?
Karl Shapiro
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But with exquisite breathing you smile, with satisfaction of love, And I touch you again as you tick in the silence and settle in sleep.
Karl Shapiro
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In the tight belly of the dead, Burrow with hungry head, And inlay maggots like a jewel.
Karl Shapiro
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Lastly, his tomb shall list and founder in the troughs of grass. And none shall speak his name.
Karl Shapiro
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Laughter and grief join hands. Always the heart Clumps in the breast with heavy stride; The face grows lined and wrinkled like a chart, The eyes bloodshot with tears and tide. Let the wind blow, for many a man shall die.
Karl Shapiro
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Poetry is innocent, not wise. It does not learn from experience, because each poetic experience is unique.
Karl Shapiro
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The body, what is it, Father, but a sign To love the force that grows us, to give back What in Thy palm is senselessness and mud?
Karl Shapiro
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The doctor punched my vein,The captain called me Cain, Upon my belly sat the sow of fear.
Karl Shapiro
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The good poet sticks to his real loves, those within the realm of possibility. He never tries to hold hands with God or the human race.
Karl Shapiro
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To make the child in your own image is a capital crime, for your image is not worth repeating. The child knows this and you know it. Consequently you hate each other.
Karl Shapiro
