#AmericanWriters
This quiet morning light reflected, how many times from grass and tress and clouds enters my north room touching the walls with
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
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
As the cat climbed over the top of the jamcloset first the right
The crowd at the ball game is moved uniformly by a spirit of uselessness which delights them— all the exciting detail
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
When over the flowery, sharp pastu… edge, unseen, the salt ocean lifts its form—chicory and daisies tied, released, seem hardly flower… but color and the movement—or the…
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
By constantly tormenting them with reminders of the lice in their children’s hair, the School Physician first brought their hatred down on him.
It is a small plant delicately branched and tapering conically to a point, each branch and the peak a wire for
A big young bareheaded woman in an apron Her hair slicked back standing on the street One stockinged foot toeing
Vast and grey, the sky is a simulacrum to all but him whose days are vast and grey and— In the tall, dried grasses
All the complicated details of the attiring and the disattiring are completed! A liquid moon moves gently among
The living quality of the man’s mind stands out and its covert assertions for art, art, art!
Let the snake wait under his weed and the writing be of words, slow and quick, sharp to strike, quiet to wait,