#AmericanWriters
Constantly near you, I never in m… sixty-four years knew you so well… or half so well. We talked. you we… so lucid, so disengaged from all e… of place and time. We talked of ou…
You sullen pig of a man you force me into the mud with your stinking ash-cart! Brother! —if we were rich
Among of green stiff old
Ecstatic bird songs pound the hollow vastness of the sky with metallic clinkings— beating color up into it at a far edge,—beating it, beating…
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…
It is a willow when summer is over… a willow by the river from which no leaf has fallen nor bitten by the sun turned orange or crimson.
If you had come away with me into another state we had been quiet together. But there the sun coming up out of the nothing beyond the lake…
Your thighs are appletrees whose blossoms touch the sky. Which sky? The sky where Watteau hung a lady’s slipper. Your knees
Subtle, clever brain, wiser than… by what devious means do you contr… to remain idle? Teach me, O maste…
Rather notice, mon cher, that the moon is titled above the point of the steeple than that its color
O’eh’lee! La’la! Donna! Donna! Blue is the sky of Palermo; Blue is the little bay; And dost thou remember the orange…
The living quality of the man’s mind stands out and its covert assertions for art, art, art!
Trundled from the strangeness of the sea —— a kind of heaven —— Ladies and Gentlemen!
When the snow falls the flakes spi… that concerns them most intimately two and two to make a dance the mind dances with itself, taking you by the hand,