(1916)
#AmericanWriters
Her body is not so white as anemone petals nor so smooth—nor so remote a thing. It is a field of the wild carrot taking thefield by force; the grass
Warm sun, quiet air an old man sits in the doorway of a broken house— boards for windows
Snow falls: years of anger following hours that float idly down — the blizzard drifts its weight
This plot of ground facing the waters of this inlet is dedicated to the living presenc… Emily Dickinson Wellcome who was born in England; married;
WHERE shall I find you— You, my grotesque fellows That I seek everywhere To make up my band? None, not one
SORROW is my own yard where the new grass flames as it has flamed often before but not with the cold fire
The crowd at the ball game is moved uniformly by a spirit of uselessness which delights them— all the exciting detail
In this world of as fine a pair of breasts as ever I saw the fountain in Madison Square
A day on the boulevards chosen out… student poverty! One best day out… Berket in high spirits—"Ha, orang… And he made to snatch an orange fr… Now so clever was the deception, s…
Little round moon up there—wait awhile—do not walk so quickly. I could sing you a song—: Wine clear the sky is and the stars no bigger than sparks! Wait for me and next winter we’ll bui...
Disciplined by the artist to go round and round in holiday gear a riotously gay rabble of
By the road to the contagious hosp… under the surge of the blue mottled clouds driven from the northeast—a cold wind. Beyond, th… waste of broad, muddy fields
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.
O—EH—lee! La—la! Donna! Donna! Blue is the sky of Palermo; Blue is the little bay; And dost thou remember the orange…
Again I reply to the triple winds running chromatic fifths of derisi… outside my window: Play louder. You will not succeed. I am