#AmericanWriters
The hands of the clock were reachi… In an old midtown hotel; I name no name, but its sordid fam… Is table talk in hell. I name no name, but hell’s own fla…
Bring down the moon for genteel J… She’s too refined for this gross p… She wears garments and you wear cl… You buy stockings, she purchases h… She say That is correct, and you…
A flea and a fly in a flue Were imprisoned, so what could the… Said the fly, “let us flee!” “Let us fly!” said the flea. So they flew through a flaw in the…
Any hound a porcupine nudges Can’t be blamed for harboring grud… I know one hound that laughed all… At a porcupine that sat on a splin…
"Beep-beep. BANKERS TRUST AUTOMOB… You’ll find a banker at Bankers T… Advertisement in N.Y. Times When comes my second childhood,
The rhino is a homely beast, For human eyes he’s not a feast. Farwell, farewell, you old rhinoce… I’ll stare at something less prepo…
In January everything freezes. We have two children. Both are sh… This is our January rule: One girl in bed, and one in school… In February the blizzard whirls.
The turtle lives twixt plated deck… Which practically conceal its sex. I think it clever of the turtle In such a fix to be so fertile.
When people aren’t asking question… They’re making suggestions And when they’re not doing one of… They’re either looking over your s… And then as if that weren’t enough…
One way to be very happy is to be… For then you can buy orchids by th… And yet at the same time People d… Because it’s very funny But somehow if you’re rich enough…
In Baltimore there lived a boy. He wasn’t anybody’s joy. Although his name was Jabez Dawes… His character was full of flaws. In school he never led his classes…
Whales have calves, Cats have kittens, Bears have cubs, Bats have bittens, Swans have cygnets,
When I remember bygone days I think how evening follows morn; So many I loved were not yet dead… So many I love were not yet born.
Song of the Open Road I think that I shall never see A billboard as lovely as a tree. Perhaps unless the billboards fall… I’ll never see a tree at all.
I objurgate the centipede, A bug we do not really need. At sleepy-time he beats a path Straight to the bedroom or the bat… You always wallop where he’s not,
