#AmericanWriters
Here in this valley of discrete ac… We have not mountains, but mounts,… To the Adirondacks, to northern M… Themselves mere rocky hillocks to… Still, they’re out best mustering…
Take the general mumble, blunt as the faceless gut of an anonymous clam, vernacular as the strut of a slug or a small preamble
Enter the chilly no-man’s land of… Five o’clock in the morning, the n… Where the waking head rubbishes ou… Of sulfurous dreamscapes and obscu… Which seemed, when dreamed, to mea…
Gerd sits spindle—shaped in her da… Lean face gone tawn with seasons, Skin worn down to the knucklebones At her tough trade; without time’s… The burnished ball hangs fire in h…
Midnight in the mid-Atlantic. On… Wrapped up in themselves as in thi… And mute as mannequins in a dress… Some few passangers keep track Of the old star-map on the ceiling…
You bring me good news from the cl… Whipping off your silk scarf, exhi… Mummy—cloths, smiling: I’m all ri… When I was nine, a lime—green ane… Fed me banana gas through a frog—m…
A garden of mouthings. Purple, sc… The great corollas dilate, peeling… Their musk encroaches, circle afte… A well of scents almost too dense… Hieratical in your frock coat, mae…
Blameless as daylight I stood loo… At a field of horses, necks bent,… Tails streaming against the green Backdrop of sycamores. Sun was st… White chapel pinnacles over the ro…
I’ve got a stubborn goose whose gu… Honeycombed with golden eggs, Yet won’t lay one. She, addled in her goose-wit, stru… The barnyard like those taloned ha…
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 this particular girl During a ceremonious april walk With her latest suitor Found herself, of a sudden, intole… By the birds’ irregular babel
The idiot bird leaps out and drunk… Atop the broken universal clock: The hour is crowed in lunatic thir… Out painted stages fall apart by s… While all the actors halt in morta…
Flintlike, her feet struck Such a racket of echoes from the s… Tacking in moon-blued crooks from… Stone-built town, that she heard t… Its tinder and shake
It is no night to drown in: A full moon, river lapsing Black beneath bland mirror—sheen, The blue water—mists dropping Scrim after scrim like fishnets
'Tea leaves I’ve given up, And that crooked line On the queen’s palm Is no more my concern. On my black pilgrimage