#AmericanWriters
It is a satisfaction a joy to have one of those in the house. when she takes a bath
What have I to say to you When we shall meet? Yet— I lie here thinking of you. The stain of love
Warm sun, quiet air an old man sits in the doorway of a broken house— boards for windows
Gagarin says, in ecstasy, he could have gone on forever he floated ate and sang
Not because of his eyes, the eyes of a bird, but because he is beaked, birdlike, to do an injury, has the turtle attracted you.
It’s a strange courage you give me ancient star: Shine alone in the sunrise toward which you lend no part!
My shoes as I lean unlacing them stand out upon flat worsted flowers under my feet.
The sky has given over its bitterness. Out of the dark change all day long rain falls and falls
the back wings of the hospital where nothing will grow lie
ALL those treasures that lie in t… Mightier than the room of the star… All those treasures—I hold them i… Against the sides and the lid and… Crying that there is no sun come a…
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 whole process is a lie, unless, crowned by excess, It break forcefully, one way or another,
In this world of as fine a pair of breasts as ever I saw the fountain in Madison Square
The crowd at the ball game is moved uniformly by a spirit of uselessness which delights them— all the exciting detail
I must tell you this young tree whose round and firm trunk between the wet pavement and the gutter