#AmericanWriters
This is a slight stiff dance to a waking baby whose arms have been lying curled back above his head upon the pillow, making a flower—the eyes closed. Dead to the world! Waking is a...
Trundled from the strangeness of the sea —— a kind of heaven —— Ladies and Gentlemen!
Gagarin says, in ecstasy, he could have gone on forever he floated at and sang
If a man can say of his life or any moment of his life, There is nothing more to be desired! his st… becomes like that told in the famo… double sonnet—but without the
Oh strong—ridged and deeply hollow… nose of mine! what will you not be… What tactless asses we are, you an… always indiscriminate, always unas… and now it is the souring flowers…
A big young bareheaded woman in an apron Her hair slicked back standing on the street One stockinged foot toeing
THE ARCHER is wake! The Swan is flying! Gold against blue An Arrow is lying. There is hunting in heaven—
By constantly tormenting them with reminders of the lice in their children’s hair, the School Physician first brought their hatred down on him.
Among the rain and lights I saw the figure 5 in gold on a red
WHERE shall I find you— You, my grotesque fellows That I seek everywhere To make up my band? None, not one
Even in the time when as yet I had no certain knowledge of her She sprang from the nest, a young… Whose first flight circled the for… I know now how then she showed me
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!
As the cat climbed over the top of the jamcloset first the right
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...
The green-blue ground is ruled with silver lines to say the sun is shining And on this moral sea of grass or dreams lie flowers