(1923)
#AmericanWriters
The little sparrows hop ingenuously about the pavement quarreling with sharp voices
Why pretend to remember the weather two years back? Why not? Listen close then repeat after others what they have just said and win a reputation for vivacity. Oh feed upon petals o...
Oh strong—ridged and deeply hollow… nose of mine! what will you not be… What tactless asses we are, you an… always indiscriminate, always unas… and now it is the souring flowers…
Mr T. bareheaded in a soiled undershirt his hair standing out on all sides
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…
Lady of dusk-wood fastnesses, Thou art my Lady. I have known the crisp, splinterin… White, slender through green sapli… I have lain by thee on the brown f…
The world begins again! Not wholly insufflated the blackbirds in the rain upon the dead topbranches of the living tree,
Oh, black Persian cat! Was not your life already cursed with offspring? We took you for rest to that old Yankee farm, —so lonely
O’eh’lee! La’la! Donna! Donna! Blue is the sky of Palermo; Blue is the little bay; And dost thou remember the orange…
Old age is a flight of small cheeping birds skimming bare trees
Snow falls: years of anger following hours that float idly down — the blizzard drifts its weight
Disciplined by the artist to go round and round in holiday gear a riotously gay rabble of
If when my wife is sleeping and the baby and Kathleen are sleeping and the sun is a flame-white disc in silken mists
Men with picked voices chant the n… of cities in a huge gallery: promi… that pull through descending stair… to a deep rumbling. The rubbing feet
When over the flowery, sharp pastu… edge, unseen, the salt ocean lifts its form—chicory and daisies tied, released, seem hardly flower… but color and the movement—or the…