#AmericanWriters
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
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.
This is the house of Bedlam. This is the man that lies in the house of Bedlam. This is the time of the tragic man
Unfunny uncles who insist in trying on a lady’s hat, —oh, even if the joke falls flat, we share your slight transvestite… in spite of our embarrassment.
About the size of an old—style dol… American or Canadian, mostly the same whites, gray green… —this little painting (a sketch fo… has never earned any money in its…
Although it is a cold evening, down by one of the fishhouses an old man sits netting, his net, in the gloaming almost in… a dark purple—brown,
This celestial seascape, with whit… flying high as they want and as fa… in tiers and tiers of immaculate r… the whole region, from the highest… down to the weightless mangrove is…
Half squatter, half tenant (no ren… a sort of inheritance; white, in your thirties now, and supposed to supply me with vegetables, but you don’t; or you won’t; or yo…
This is the time of year when almost every night the frail, illegal fire balloons a… Climbing the mountain height, rising toward a saint
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…
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…
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…
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…
We must admire her perfect aim, this huntress of the winter air whose level weapon needs no sight, if it were not that everywhere her game is sure, her shot is righ…
Here, above, cracks in the buildings are filled… The whole shadow of Man is only a… It lies at his feet like a circle… and he makes an inverted pin, the…