#AmericanWriters
i carry your heart with me(i carry… my heart)i am never without it(any… i go you go, my dear;and whatever… by only me is your doing, my darli… i fear
perhaps it is to feel strike the silver fish of her nakedness with fins sharply pleasant,my youth has travelled toward her the… or to snare the timid like
Tumbling-hair picker of buttercups … dandelions And the big bullying daisies
nobody loses all the time i had an uncle named Sol who was a born failure and nearly everybody said he should ha… into vaudeville perhaps because my…
who knows if the moon’s a baloon,coming out of a keen city in the sky—filled with pretty peop… (and if you and i should get into it,if they
the mind is its own beautiful pris… Mind looked long at the sticky moo… opening in dusk her new wings then decently hanged himself,one a… The last thing he saw was you
Thy fingers make early flowers of all things. thy hair mostly the hours love: a smoothness which sings, saying
suppose Life is an old man carrying flower… young death sits in a café smiling,a piece of money held betw… his thumb and first finger
yours is the music for no instrume… yours the preposterous colour unbe… —mine the unbought contemptuous in… till this our felsh merely shall b… by speaking flower
when life is quite through with and leaves say alas, much is to do for the swallow,that closes a flight in the blue;
i like to think that on the flower you gave me when we loved the far-
Babylon slim -ness of evenslicing eyes are chisels scarlet Goes
the rose is dying the lips of an old man murder the petals hush
between the breasts of bestial Marj lie large men who praise Marj’s cleancornered strokable
the hills like poets put on purple thought against the magnificent clamor of