#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
Trundled from the strangeness of the sea —— a kind of heaven —— Ladies and Gentlemen!
Upon the table in their bowl in violent disarray of yellow sprays, green spikes of leaves, red pointed petals and curled heads of blue
It is cold. The white moon is up among her scattered stars— like the bare thighs of the Police Sergeant’s wife—among her five children . . .
I gotta buy me a new girdle. (I’ll buy you one) O.K.
"Sweet land" at last! out of sea— the Venusremembering wavelets rippling with laughter—
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 the field by force; the grass
Men with picked voices chant the n… of cities in a huge gallery: promi… that pull through descending stair… to a deep rumbling. The rubbing feet
The living quality of the man’s mind stands out and its covert assertions for art, art, art!
beauty is a shell from the sea where she rules triumphant till love has had its way with her scallops and
You sullen pig of a man you force me into the mud with your stinking ash-cart! Brother! —if we were rich
Beloved you are Caviar of Caviar Of all I love you best O my Japanese bird nest No herring from Norway
Here it is spring again and I still a young man! I am late at my singing. The sparrow with the black rain on… has been at his cadenzas for two w…
An old willow with hollow branches slowly swayed his few high gright… and sang: Love is a young green willow shimmering at the bare wood’s edge…
She sits with tears on her cheek her cheek on her hand