#AmericanWriters
a burst of iris so that come down for breakfast we searched through the rooms for
This particular thing, whether it be four pinches of four divers white powders cleverly compounded to cure surely, safely, pleasantly a painful twitching of the eyelids or say a pe...
Flowers through the window lavender and yellow changed by white curtains— Smell of cleanliness— Sunshine of late afternoon—
The birches are mad with green poi… the wood’s edge is burning with th… burning, seething—No, no, no. The birches are opening their leav… by one. Their delicate leaves unfo…
The living quality of the man’s mind stands out and its covert assertions for art, art, art!
To make two bold statements: There’s nothing sentimental about a machine, and: A poem is a small (or large) machine made out of words. When I say there’s nothing sentimental about a poe...
The crowd at the ball game is moved uniformly by a spirit of uselessness which delights them— all the exciting detail
My wife’s new pink slippers have gay pompons. There is not a spot or a stain on their satin toes or their sides… All night they lie together
It’s a strange courage you give me ancient star: Shine alone in the sunrise toward which you lend no part!
Winter is long in this climate and spring—a matter of a few days only,—a flower or two picked from mud or from among wet leaves or at best against treacherous
Summer! the painting is organized about a young reaper enjoying his noonday rest
The green-blue ground is ruled with silver lines to say the sun is shining And on this moral sea of grass or dreams lie flowers
I have discovered that most of the beauties of travel are due to the strange hours we keep to see t… the domes of the Church of the Paulist Fathers in Weehawken
According to Brueghel when Icarus fell it was spring a farmer was ploughing his field
Each time it rings I think it is for me but it is not for me nor for anyone it merely