First, a classic by Ezra Pound.
In a Station of the MetroIt's just the perfect juxtaposition of images... the blurred image of pink faces through a rain-spattered window, the pink petals quivering in the wind.
The apparition of these faces in the crowd;
Petals on a wet, black bough.
I don't really know who Charles Reznikoff is, but I came across these clever poems in one of my anthologies.
The BridgeIn a cloud bones of steel.
EpitaphNot the five feet of water to your chinbut the inch above the tip of your nose.
The Old ManThe fish has too many bonesand the watermelon too many seeds.
Finally, the double meaning of this one by Robert Bly just makes me giggle.
Their Sex LifeOne failure onTop of another
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