Category Archives: Kees Weldon

Robinson at Home by Weldon Kees

Curtains drawn back, the door ajar. All winter long, it seemed, a darkening Began. But now the moonlight and the odours of the street Conspire and combine toward one community. These are the rooms of Robinson. Bleached, wan, and colourless … Continue reading

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Aspects of Robinson by Weldon Kees

Robinson at cards at the Algonquin; a thin Blue light comes down once more outside the blinds. Grey men in overcoats are ghosts blown past the door. The taxis streak the avenues with yellow, orange, and red. This is Grand … Continue reading

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Relating to Robinson by Weldon Kees

Somewhere in Chelsea, early summer; And, walking in the twilight toward the docks, I thought I made out Robinson ahead of me. From an un-curtained second-story room, a radio Was playing There’s a Small Hotel; a kite Twisted above dark … Continue reading

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Robinson by Weldon Kees

The dog stops barking after Robinson has gone. His act is over. The world is a grey world, Not without violence, and he kicks under the grand piano, The nightmare chase well under way. The mirror from Mexico, stuck to … Continue reading

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