There was an old man lived out in the wood, His trade was a-cutting of Broom, green Broom;... He had but one son without thrift, without good, Who lay in his bed till 'twas noon, bright noon.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
The sounds are: the brisk swish of broom on tatami matting, the raucous cawing of hooded crows in a nearby willow grove; clickety-... clackety rattle of chattering housewives, a sound like briskly plied knitting needles, for Japanese is a language full of Ts and Ks; and, in the mornings, the crowing of a cock.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Once, when dust rolled up from the road and the fields were high with heavy-handled wheat and the leaves of every tree were gray a...nd curledup and hung head down, I went in the meadow with an old broom like a gun, where the dandelions had begun to seed and the low ground was cracked, and I flushed grasshoppers from the goldenrod in whirring clouds like quail and shot them down. I smelled wheat in the warm wind and every weed. I tasted dust in my mouth.... I hunted Horse Simon in the shade of a tree. I rode the broom over the brown meadow grass and with a fist like pistol butt and trigger shot the Indian on Horse Simon down.... My horse had a golden tail. Dust rolled up behind. He was on the tractor in a broad-brimmed hat. With a fist like a pistol butt and trigger, going fast, I shot him down.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
I place these numbed wrists to the pane watching white uniforms whisk over... him in the tube-kept prison fear what they will do in experimentLESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Fat black bucks in a wine-barrel room, Barrel-house kings, with feet unstable,... Sagged and reeled and pounded on the table, Pounded on the table, Beat an empty barrel with the handle of a broom, Hard as they were able,LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
There should be less talk; a preaching point is not a meeting point. What do you do then? Take a broom and clean someone's house. ...That says enough.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
... the ocean could not be swept back with a broom. The truth was out. It illuminated the world. Motherhood no longer cringed befo...re the relentless laws of fecundity.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
It is as real as splinters stuck in your ear. The noise we steal... is half a bell. And outside cars whisk by on the suburban street and are there and are true. What else is this, this intricate shape of air? calling me, calling you.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
And then finally there's your grandmother Sweeping the dust of the nineteenth century... Into the twentieth, and your grandfather plucking A straw out of the broom to pick his teeth.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »