#AmericanWriters
No use, no use, now, begging Reco… There is nothing to do with such a… Name, house, car keys, The little toy wife— Erased, sigh, sigh.
First, are you our sort of a perso… Do you wear A glass eye, false teeth or a crut… A brace or a hook, Rubber breasts or a rubber crotch,
An old beast ended in this place: A monster of wood and rusty teeth. Fire smelted his eyes to lumps Of pale blue vitreous stuff, opaqu… As resin drops oozed from pine bar…
Now coldness comes sifting down, l… To our bower at the lily root. Overhead the old umbrellas of summ… Wither like pithless hands. There… Hourly the eye of the sky enlarges…
By the gate with star and moon Worked into the peeled orange wood The bronze snake lay in the sun Inert as a shoelace; dead But pliable still, his jaw
Day of mist: day of tarnish with hands unserviceable, I wait for the milk van the one—eared cat
I know the bottom, she says. I kn… It is what you fear. I do not fear it: I have been the… Is it the sea you hear in me, Its dissatisfactions?
The figs on the fig tree in the ya… Green, also, the grapes on the gre… Shading the brickred porch tiles. The money’s run out. How nature, sensing this, compound…
Cold on my narrow cot I lie and in sorrow look through my window—square of black: figured in the midnight sky, a mosaic of stars
Mayday: two came to field in such… `A daisied mead’, each said to eac… So were they one; so sought they c… Across barbed stile, through flock… `No pitchforked farmer, please,' s…
On the stiff twig up there Hunches a wet black rook Arranging and rearranging its feat… I do not expect a miracle Or an accident
'Perspective betrays with its dich… train tracks always meet, not here… in the impossible mind’s eye; horizons beat a retreat as we emba… on sophist seas to overtake that m…
The night is only a sort of carbon… Blueblack, with the much-poked per… Letting in the light, peephole aft… A bonewhite light, like death, beh… Under the eyes of the stars and th…
Love set you going like a fat gold… The midwife slapped your footsoles… Took its place among the elements. Our voices echo, magnifying your a… In a drafty museum, your nakedness
Gold mouths cry with the green you… certainty of the bronze boy remembering a thousand autumns and how a hundred thousand leaves came sliding down his shoulder bla…