#AmericanWriters
Fanaticism? No. Writing is exci… and baseball is like writing. You can never tell with either how it will go or what you will do;
In speaking of ‘aspiration,’ From the recesses of a pen more do… itself, Were you presenting us with one mo… French drollery,
Fragments of sin are a part of me. New brooms shall sweep clean the h… Shall they? Shall they? When this light life shall have pa… God shall redeem me, a castaway.
With an elephant to ride upon—"wit… she shall outdistance calamity any… Speed is not in her mind inseparab… in the shape of an elephant; she c… to travel laboriously. So far as m…
If external action is effete and rhyme is outmoded, I shall revert to you, Habakkuk, as when in a Bible clas… the teacher was speaking of unrhym…
Although the aepyornis or roc that lived in Madagascar, a… the moa are extinct, the camel—sparrow, linked with them in size—the large sparro…
Another armored animal—scale lapping scale with spruce—cone reg… form the uninterrupted central tail—row! This near artichoke with… gizzard,
“No water so still as the dead fountains of Versailles.” No… with swart blind look askance and gondoliering legs, so fine as the chinz china one with fawn—
Dürer would have seen a reason for… in a town like this, with eight st… to look at; with the sweet sea air… on a fine day, from water etched with waves as formal as the scales
There is a great amount of poetry… fastidiousness. Certain Ming products, imperial floor coverings… wheel yellow, are well enough in t… that I like better—a
I, too, dislike it: there are thin… all this fiddle. Reading it, however, with a perfec… discovers in it after all, a place for the genu…
Trying to open locked doors with a… the points of needles, planting sh… upside down; swallowed by the opaq… love better than they love you, Ir… you have lived and lived on every…
wade through black jade. Of the crow-blue mussel-shells, on… adjusting the ash-heaps; opening and shutting itself like
For authorities whose hopes are shaped by mercenaries? Writers entrapped by teatime fame and by commuters’ comforts? Not for thes…
What is our innocence, what is our guilt? All are naked, none is safe. And whence is courage: the unanswered questio… the resolute doubt,—