#AmericanWriters
Days that cannot bring you near or will not, Distance trying to appear something more obstinate, argue argue argue with me
I dreamed that dead, and meditatin… I lay upon a grave, or bed, (at least, some cold and close—bui… In the cold heart, its final thoug… stood frozen, drawn immense and cl…
The great light cage has broken up… freeing, I think, about a million… whose wild ascending shadows will… and all the wires come falling dow… No cage, no frightening birds; the…
Across the floor flits the mechani… fit for a king of several centurie… A little circus horse with real wh… His eyes are glossy black. He bears a little dancer on his ba…
Minnow, go to sleep and dream, Close your great big eyes; Round your bed Events prepare The pleasantest surprise. Darling Minnow, drop that frown,
My love, my saving grace, your eyes are awfully blue. I kiss your funny face, your coffee-flavored mouth. Last night I slept with you.
Each day with so much ceremony begins, with birds, with bells, with whistles from a factory; such white—gold skies our eyes first open on, such brilliant wall…
On the unbreathing sides of hills they play, a specklike girl and bo… alone, but near a specklike house. The Sun’s suspended eye blinks casually, and then they wad…
The moon in the bureau mirror looks out a million miles (and perhaps with pride, at hersel… but she never, never smiles) far and away beyond sleep, or
Here, above, cracks in the buildings are filled… The whole shadow of Man is only a… It lies at his feet like a circle… and he makes an inverted pin, the…
This is not my home. How did I ge… be over that way somewhere. I am the color of wine, of tinta.… right claw is saffron—yellow. See,… flag. I am dapper and elegant; I…
The rain has stopped. The waterfa… night. I have come out to take a w… that is—is wet and cold and covere… white, the size of a dinner plate.… certain rock, but it may well be d…
Caught —the bubble in the spirit level, a creature divided; and the compass needle wobbling and wavering,
It is so peaceful on the ceiling! It is the Place de la Concorde. The little crystal chandelier is off, the fountain is in the dar… Not a soul is in the park.
At low tide like this how sheer th… White, crumbling ribs of marl prot… and the boats are dry, the pilings… Absorbing, rather than being absor… the water in the bight doesn’t wet…