By Greg Johnson
Read or Download Aid and comfort: poems PDF
Best contemporary books
SinsForbidden fruits…. used to be Olivia only a prize Max had stolen from his opponents? whilst Olivia first met Max Agathios, she used to be young—and totally captivated. yet Max used to be her father's arch-enemy in company, so she used to be forbidden to work out him back. 4 years on, Olivia had agreed to marry Christos, Max's nephew; it used to be a fit of which either their fathers authorized.
Claire Bradford wanted a take-heed call. What she did not desire was once a sad automobile coincidence. As a unmarried mother and the landlord of a profitable bead store, Claire leads a predictable existence in Hope's Crossing, Colorado. So what if she has no time for love? not less than, that is what she tells herself, specially while her most sensible friend's attractive more youthful brother comes again to city because the new leader of police.
Even though the sector of up to date immunobiology maintains to diversify and surround an expanding array of biomedical disciplines and themes, there are often numerous issues that may obtain detailed emphasis and prominence at any given time. it really is our wish that this sequence will mirror those subject matters and professional vide a suitable venue for publicity of such themes at an invaluable time.
Additional info for Aid and comfort: poems
I am here as much as possible. I pet them, some of them it does so much good, they are so faint and lonesomeat parting at night sometimes I kiss them right & leftThe doctors tell me I supply the patients with a medicine which all their drugs & bottles & powders are helpless to yield. Walt Whitman, letters of 1863 Page ix CONTENTS I. Unacceptable Losses Aid and Comfort 3 Visiting the Sick 4 The Foreign Element 5 Last Words 7 A Death That Dare Not Speak . . 9 Withholding the Last Word 12 Elegy for a Marine 13 Spinster 15 Sexual Outlaw 16 Vanity 17 Safe Sex 18 Words for St.
I wish you could see the whole scene. This young man lies within reach of me, flat on his back, his hands clasp'd across his breast, his thick hair cut close; he is dozing, breathing hard, every breath a spasmit looks so cruel. He is a noble youngster,I consider him past all hope. Often there is no one with him for a long while. I am here as much as possible. I pet them, some of them it does so much good, they are so faint and lonesomeat parting at night sometimes I kiss them right & leftThe doctors tell me I supply the patients with a medicine which all their drugs & bottles & powders are helpless to yield.
No, I cannot, and instead try to get behind the washed-blue eyes of that young woman next in line, an updated version of housewife in her polo shirt and cropped hair, I'm pondering what she does or doesn't think or feel as she leans over her cart, squinting, and then seems to continue beyond the headline, another paragraph, maybe two her eyes open and blank and unreadable as the worldbefore reaching down with a grunt and slapping her hunks of meat down on the counter. " Then you went on to speak of August in the desert Southwest, the safe and intractable sun.