#AmericanWriters
I am in need of music that would f… Over my fretful, feeling fingertip… Over my bitter—tainted, trembling… With melody, deep, clear, and liqu… Oh, for the healing swaying, old a…
The art of losing isn’t hard to ma… so many things seem filled with th… to be lost that their loss is no d… Lose something every day. Accept… of lost door keys, the hour badly…
September rain falls on the house. In the failing light, the old gran… sits in the kitchen with the child beside the Little Marvel Stove, reading the jokes from the almanac…
The roaring alongside he takes for… and that every so often the world… He runs, he runs to the south, fin… in a state of controlled panic, a… The beach hisses like fat. On his…
There are too many waterfalls here… hurry too rapidly down to the sea, and the pressure of so many clouds… makes them spill over the sides in… turning to waterfalls under our ve…
Minnow, go to sleep and dream, Close your great big eyes; Round your bed Events prepare The pleasantest surprise. Darling Minnow, drop that frown,
In Worcester, Massachusetts, I went with Aunt Consuelo to keep her dentist’s appointment and sat and waited for her in the dentist’s waiting room.
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…
Now can you see the monument? It… built somewhat like a box. No. Bu… like several boxes in descending s… one above the other. Each is turned half—way round so t…
You won’t become a gourmet* cook By studying our Fannie’s book— Her thoughts on Food & Keeping H… Are scarcely those of Lévi—Straus… Nevertheless, you’ll find, Frank…
Land lies in water; it is shadowed… Shadows, or are they shallows, at… showing the line of long sea-weede… where weeds hang to the simple blu… Or does the land lean down to lift…
Still dark. The unknown bird sits on his usual… The little dog next door barks in… inquiringly, just once. Perhaps in his sleep, too, the bir…
Think of the storm roaming the sky… like a dog looking for a place to… listen to it growling. Think how they must look now, the… lying out there unresponsive to th…
From narrow provinces of fish and bread and tea, home of the long tides where the bay leaves the sea twice a day and takes
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.