380 Chapters
  Title Author Publisher Format Buy Remix
Medium 9781574413090

Bower Bird

Caki Wilkinson University of North Texas Press PDF

Bower Bird

Old news, the midnight warblers worrisome to introspective bards, the nagging taps and jugs that left so many haunted, dumb, behind their coppice gates or chamber doors— but witness, now, this feathered architect, a bricoleur, exotic, who ignores convention, working long before he sings to gather fragile lumber, sticks and seeds, although, part larcenist, his favorite things come from the human world: milk caps or pairs of pearly buttons once attached to tags; matchsticks, cigar bands, red synthetic hairs uprooted from some coconut baboon or other Florabama souvenir, stripped screws, receipts, even the jagged moon of a fingernail blown, dusty, from the Hoover.

And steadfast to the finders keepers rule, this passerine Houdini will maneuver through apertures in transoms, cracks in attics, encroaching on such odd forgotten hobbies as medieval reenactments, numismatics

Hummels, and paint-by-numbers, hauling back whatever he can muster, though he’s less a petty crook than kleptomaniac, since unlike history’s most famous thieves,

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Medium 9780253022790

Pixy People, The

James Whitcomb Riley Indiana University Press ePub

IT was just a very

Merry fairy dream!—

All the woods were airy

With the gloom and gleam;

Crickets in the clover

Clattered clear and strong,

And the bees droned over

Their old honey-song.

In the mossy passes,

Saucy grasshoppers

Leapt about the grasses

And the thistle-burs;

And the whispered chuckle

Of the katydid

Shoot the honeysuckle

Blossoms where he hid.

Through the breezy mazes

Of the lazy June,

Drowsy with the hazes,

Of the dreamy noon,

Little Pixy people

Winged above the walk,

Pouring from the steeple

Of a mullein-stalk.

One—a gallant fellow—

Evidently King,—

Wore a plume of yellow

In a jewelled ring

On a pansy bonnet,

Gold and white and blue,

With the dew still on it,

And the fragrance, too.

One—a dainty lady,—

Evidently Queen,—

Wore a gown of shady

Moonshine and green,

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Medium 9781574415643

You're in the Picture

Stefanie Wortman University of Northern Texas PDF
Medium 9781574412420

Roller Skates

Richard Carr University of North Texas Press PDF
Medium 9781574412420

Rage

Richard Carr University of North Texas Press PDF
Medium 9780253006325

Songs in Sepia and Black & White

Norbert Krapf Quarry Books ePub

Songs in Sepia and Black and White

There was a handsome man who

parted his hair down the middle,

a man who left way too young.

Died at thirty-three, father

of six, the eldest only twelve.

This man played the mandolin,

sang German songs as a tenor.

I sometimes see him in sepia,

sometimes in black and white.

I sing fire sage for Dorothy,

miniature irises and roses

climbing a white trellis.

Shallots growing in her garden

and rhubarb stalks at the edge.

Lettuces in her cold frame.

Memories of a father who died

when she was six, memories

of a mandolin and tenor voice.

Stories and irises for me, the grandson,

from Frank's late daughter, Dorothy.

Songs in sepia and black and white.

The Kaiser and the Little Girl's Tongue

When she was a little girl during

WW I and wanted to speak German

like the elders she loved,

they would say, “You better not

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Medium 9781574412802

Daughter for My Prayer

Amy M. Clark University of North Texas Press PDF
Medium 9781574414479

Wildflowers of North America

Gibson Fay-LeBlanc University of North Texas Press PDF
Medium 9780253022790

Circus-Day Parade, The

James Whitcomb Riley Indiana University Press ePub

OH, THE Circus-Day parade! How the bugles played and played!

And how the glossy horses tossed their flossy manes, and neighed,

As the rattle and the rhyme of the tenor-drummer’s time

Filled all the hungry hearts of us with melody sublime!

How the grand band-wagon shone with a splendor all its own,

And glittered with a glory that our dreams had never known!

And how the boys behind, high and low of every kind,

Marched in unconscious capture, with a rapture undefined!

How the horsemen, two and two, with their plumes of white and blue,

And crimson, gold and purple, nodding by at me and you,

Waved the banners that they bore, as the Knights in days of yore,

Till our glad eyes gleamed and glistened like the spangles that they wore!

How the graceless-graceful stride of the elephant was eyed,

And the capers of the little horse that cantered at his side!

How the shambling camels, tame to the plaudits of their fame,

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Medium 9781574412802

Duet Under Glass

Amy M. Clark University of North Texas Press PDF
Medium 9781574412420

Husk

Richard Carr University of North Texas Press PDF
Medium 9781574413090

XII. Women’s Studies

Caki Wilkinson University of North Texas Press PDF
Medium 9780253009517

Old Winters on the Farm

James Whitcomb Riley Indiana University Press ePub

I Have jest about decided

It ’ud keep a town-boy hoppin’

Fer to work all winter, choppin’

Fer a’ old fire-place, like I did!

Lawz! them old times wuz contrairy!—

Blame’ backbone o’ winter, ’peared-like,

Wouldn’t break!—and I wuz skeerd-like

Clean on into Feb’uary!

Nothin’ ever made me madder

Than fer Pap to stomp in, layin’

In a’ extra forestick, sayin’,

“Groun’-hog’s out and seed his shadder!”

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Medium 9780253022790

Lugubrious Whing-Whang, The

James Whitcomb Riley Indiana University Press ePub

THE rhyme o’ The Raggedy Man’s ’at’s best

Is Tickle me, Love, in these Lonesome Ribs,—

’Cause that-un’s the strangest of all o’ the rest,

An’ the worst to learn, an’ the last one guessed,

An’ the funniest one, an’ the foolishest.—

Tickle me, Love, in these Lonesome Ribs!

I don’t know what in the world it means—

Tickle me, Love, in these Lonesome Ribs!—

An’ nen when I tell him I don’t, he leans

Like he was a-grindin’ on some machines

An’ says: Ef I don’t, w’y, I don’t know beans!

Tickle me, Love, in these Lonesome Ribs!—

Out on the margin of Moonshine Land,

Tickle me, Love, in these Lonesome Ribs!

Out where the Whing-Whang loves to stand,

Writing his name with his tail in the sand,

And swiping it out with his oogerish hand;

Tickle me, Love, in these Lonesome Ribs!

Is it the gibber of Gungs or Keeks?

Tickle me, Love, in these Lonesome Ribs!

Or what is the sound that the Whing-Whang seeks?—

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Medium 9781574412420

Odometer

Richard Carr University of North Texas Press PDF

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