#Activities #AmericanWriters #MoneyAndEconomics #SocialCommentaries
My wife’s new pink slippers have gay pompons. There is not a spot or a stain on their satin toes or their sides… All night they lie together
Well, Lizzie Anderson! seventeen… the baby hard to find a father for… What will the good Father in Heav… to the local judge if he do not so… A little two-pointed smile and—pou…
It was an icy day. We buried the cat, then took her box and set fire to it in the back yard.
SORROW is my own yard where the new grass flames as it has flamed often before but not with the cold fire
You say love is this, love is that… Poplar tassels, willow tendrils the wind and the rain comb, tinkle and drip, tinkle and drip— branches drifting apart. Hagh!
The murderer’s little daughter who is barely ten years old jerks her shoulders right and left so as to catch a glimpse of me
When I am alone I am happy. The air is cool. The sky is flecked and splashed and wound with color. The crimson phalloi of the sassafras leaves
In Brueghel’s great picture, The… the dancers go round, they go roun… around, the squeal and the blare a… tweedle of bagpipes, a bugle and f… tipping their bellies (round as th…
so much depends upon a red wheel barrow glazed with rain
I have discovered that most of the beauties of travel are due to the strange hours we keep to see t… the domes of the Church of the Paulist Fathers in Weehawken
Paterson lies in the valley under… its spent waters forming the outli… lies on his right side, head near… of the waters filling his dreams!… his dreams walk about the city whe…
Sooner or later we must come to the end of striving to re-establish the image the image of
You Communists and Republicans! all you Germans and Frenchmen! you corpses and quickeners! The stars are about to melt and fall on you in tears.
Oh, black Persian cat! Was not your life already cursed with offspring? We took you for rest to that old Yankee farm, —so lonely
I’ve fond anticipation of a day O’erfilled with pure diversion pre… For I must read a lady poesy The while we glide by many a leafy… Hid deep in rushes, where at rando…