Robert Wrigley: A Certain Man
For in the loop of this hell there’s a farcical rule,
that says when certain men find a certain man
of use—one that’s spiteful, vacant, and cruel —
he becomes for his purposes the perfect tool…
Robert Wrigley: Fifth Morning
But sun-shimmered, it’s a very nice
light to watch a day arrive through,
rainbowed red and gold and silver-blue.
Robert Wrigley: Cricket and Cicada
After an hour I can’t tell them
one from another. They’ve become
two parts of an uncommon harmony,
cricket melody then cicada melody
until there’s no melody at all
Robert Wrigley: Self-Pity
Sometimes, in private—another room at least,
another building all the better—you can bask
in the balm and rage of it, you can as a dog does
roll in it like a dead fish on the grass
Video: Robert Wrigley reads ‘American Fear’
In this long poem about the present disfunction of American society, Robert Wrigley ‘tells all the truth, but makes it sing.’
Robert Wrigley: By the Edge of that Water
She wandered to him
through a crowd of thousands
before an outdoor concert by the Grateful Dead.
Robert Wrigley: What She Said
She said to him, Oh, Jack, what have they done?
Robert Wrigley: The Consciousness of Everything
That time’s lost now, when a stone could hurt,
when a feather missed its wing,
when sky kissed clouds and grass kissed dirt
and nothing thought itself just a thing.
Robert Wrigley: Two Poems
they rise and form their three- or four-bird patrols
leaving the haunted campus behind,
until the priest raven perches alone and calls,
in search of the people none of them can find.
Robert Wrigley: Taking Care
Tornillo, Texas It must be assumed that the caretakers— if that’s what they are called and not guards— are kind. If not parents then parental in appropriately incarcerative ways. … Continue reading
