#AmericanWriters
Sooner or later we must come to the end of striving to re-establish the image the image of
You sullen pig of a man you force me into the mud with your stinking ash-cart! Brother! —if we were rich
a burst of iris so that come down for breakfast we searched through the rooms for
The pure products of America go crazy— mountain folk from Kentucky or the ribbed north end of Jersey
A rumpled sheet Of brown paper About the length And apparent bulk Of a man was
Let the snake wait under his weed and the writing be of words, slow and quick, sharp to strike, quiet to wait,
munching a plum on the street a paper bag of them in her hand They taste good to her They taste good
Ecstatic bird songs pound the hollow vastness of the sky with metallic clinkings— beating color up into it at a far edge,—beating it, beating…
All the complicated details of the attiring and the disattiring are completed! A liquid moon moves gently among
In Brueghel’s great picture, The… the dancers go round, they go roun… around, the squeal and the blare a… tweedle of bagpipes, a bugle and f… tipping their bellies (round as th…
When over the flowery, sharp pastu… edge, unseen, the salt ocean lifts its form—chicory and daisies tied, released, seem hardly flower… but color and the movement—or the…
Paterson lies in the valley under… its spent waters forming the outli… lies on his right side, head near… of the waters filling his dreams!… his dreams walk about the city whe…
My townspeople, beyond in the grea… are many with whom it were far mor… profitable for me to live than her… These whirr about me calling, call… and for my own part I answer them,…
Vast and grey, the sky is a simulacrum to all but him whose days are vast and grey and— In the tall, dried grasses
Here it is spring again and I still a young man! I am late at my singing. The sparrow with the black rain on… has been at his cadenzas for two w…