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Poem by Lola Ridge Scandal Aren't there bigger things to talk about Than a window in Greenwich Village And hyacinths sprouting Like little puce poems out of a sick soul? Some cosmic hearsay— As to whom—it can't be Mars! put the moon—that way…. Or what winds do to canyons Under the tall stars… Or even How that old roué, Neptune, Cranes over his bald-head moons At the twinkling heel of a sky-scraper. Lola Ridge Lola Ridge's other poems: Poems of the other poets with the same name: 1207 Views |
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