#AmericanWriters
This was the land’s end: the last… Cramped on nothing. Black Admonitory cliffs, and the sea exp… With no bottom, or anything on the… Whitened by the faces of the drown…
'Tea leaves I’ve given up, And that crooked line On the queen’s palm Is no more my concern. On my black pilgrimage
The idiot bird leaps out and drunk… Atop the broken universal clock: The hour is crowed in lunatic thir… Out painted stages fall apart by s… While all the actors halt in morta…
I thought that I could not be hur… I thought that I must surely be impervious to suffering— immune to pain or agony.
Who are these people at the bridge… The rector, the midwife, the sexto… In my sleeveless summery dress I… And they are all gloved and covere… They are smiling and taking out ve…
The night is only a sort of carbon… Blueblack, with the much-poked per… Letting in the light, peephole aft… A bonewhite light, like death, beh… Under the eyes of the stars and th…
They are always with us, the thin… Meager of dimension as the gray pe… On a movie—screen. They Are unreal, we say: It was only in a movie, it was onl…
Enter the chilly no-man’s land of… Five o’clock in the morning, the n… Where the waking head rubbishes ou… Of sulfurous dreamscapes and obscu… Which seemed, when dreamed, to mea…
All day she plays at chess with th… Favored (while suddenly the rains… Beyond the window) she lies on cus… And nibbles an occasional bonbon o… Prim, pink—breasted, feminine, she…
Flintlike, her feet struck Such a racket of echoes from the s… Tacking in moon-blued crooks from… Stone-built town, that she heard t… Its tinder and shake
You will be aware of an absence, p… Growing beside you, like a tree, A death tree, color gone, an Aust… Balding, gelded by lightning—an il… And a sky like a pig’s backside, a…
Now this particular girl During a ceremonious april walk With her latest suitor Found herself, of a sudden, intole… By the birds’ irregular babel
Black lake, black boat, two black,… Where do the black trees go that d… Their shadows must cover Canada. A little light is filtering from t… Their leaves do not wish us to hur…
The abstracts hover like dull ange… Nothing so vulgar as a nose or an… Bossing the ethereal blanks of the… Their whiteness bears no relation… Snow, chalk or suchlike. They’re
No novice In those elaborate rituals Which allay the malice Of knotted table and crooked chair… The new woman in the ward