Lawrence Dugan

Lawrence Dugan's poetry has appeared recently in Arion, National Review, The Spectator and The Threepenny Review.

Lawrence Dugan's poetry has appeared recently in Arion, National Review, The Spectator and The Threepenny Review.

The Latest

Poetry

MORE SPACE An anthropology of space? A Cape May Scenario: porches, hammocks, flags; lawns Without stone ornaments, small windows That are bow-shaped for the sea wind, Mail boxes with salt-air-withered signs, The pavements narrow enough for ...

Poetry

MORE SPACE An anthropology of space? A Cape May Scenario: porches, hammocks, flags; lawns Without stone ornaments, small windows That are bow-shaped for the sea wind, Mail boxes with salt-air-withered signs, The pavements narrow enough for ...

Poetry

O’NEILL AND THE SEA I. The greatest metaphor of them all In the end stands only for the rise and fall Of itself. The tides, boats and sailors, Even the seagulls, symbolize the great substitution Of ...

Poetry

O’NEILL AND THE SEA I. The greatest metaphor of them all In the end stands only for the rise and fall Of itself. The tides, boats and sailors, Even the seagulls, symbolize the great substitution Of ...

My Wreck

Somewhere Hopkins refers to his great long Ode as my wreck, as possessive as a salvager Tossing sand dunes for rubble the day after. And somewhere a critic says Hopkins thought Volpone a great play. I ...

Poetry

MY WRECK Somewhere Hopkins refers to his great long Ode as my wreck, as possessive as a salvager Tossing sand dunes for rubble the day after. And somewhere a critic says Hopkins thought Volpone a ...

Poetry

THE GREEN SWARD That green sward I used to walk above A baseball-diamond Mother remembered Near Penn, under a bridge, a field always Surprising her when she happened to recall It, a petal on a ...

Poetry

THE LAST KEENERS IN SCHUYLKILL (A Neighborhood in Philadelphia) She remembered that the Tobins were the last To have wailing mourners at a wake Women who cried in disbelief that a soul had fled. Who ...

Poetry

FACELESS DREAMS FULL OF NUMBERS Every now and then for a few days The same dream presents a problem that can’t Quite be solved or sent away. It comes Like the dawn breeze, something ...

Poetry

DUCKTOWN It had its origins in the sandy past Of Atlantic City, the old boardwalk And the short blocks, the brief alleys And small businesses with names Decalled over long empty windows. Pepper Alley they called ...