Alan Dugan Poems
|1.||On Looking For Models||1/20/2003|
|2.||On A Seven-Day Diary||4/16/2010|
|4.||Wall, Cave, And Pillar Statements, After Asoka||4/16/2010|
|5.||Love Song: I And Thou||4/16/2010|
|6.||On Hurricane Jackson||4/16/2010|
|9.||On The Civil War On The East Coast Of The United States Of North America 1860-64||4/16/2010|
|10.||How We Heard The Name||4/16/2010|
|11.||Untitled Poem - I||4/16/2010|
|12.||Plague Of Dead Sharks||4/16/2010|
|13.||Untitled Poem - Ii||4/16/2010|
|14.||Monologue Of A Commercial Fisherman||4/16/2010|
|15.||Fabrication Of Ancestors||4/16/2010|
|16.||On Being A Householder||4/16/2010|
|18.||Drunken Memories Of Anne Sexton||1/1/2004|
|19.||Swing Shift Blues||1/1/2004|
|20.||Two Quits And A Drum, And Elegy For Drinkers||4/16/2010|
|22.||Internal Migration: On Being On Tour||4/16/2010|
|23.||Remembering An Account Executive||4/16/2010|
On Looking For Models
The trees in time
have something else to do
besides their treeing. What is it.
I'm a starving to death
man myself, and thirsty, thirsty
by their fountains but I cannot drink
their mud and sunlight to be whole.
I do not understand these presences
that drink for months
in the dirt, eat light,
and then fast dry in the cold.
They stand it out somehow,
and how, the Botanists will tell me.
It is the "something else" that bothers
me, so I often go back to the forests.
My mother never heard of Freud
and she decided as a little girl
that she would call her husband Dick
no matter what his first name was
and did. He called her Ditty. They
called me Bud, and our generic names
amused my analyst. That must, she said,
explain the crazy times I had in bed
and quoted Freud: "Life is pain."