#EnglishWriters
A cool small evening shrunk to a d… And you listening. A spider’s web, tense for the dew’… A pail lifted, still and brimming–… To tempt a first star to a tremor.
She gives him his eyes, she found… Among some rubble, among some beet… He gives her her skin He just seemed to pull it down out… She weeps with fearfulness and ast…
A shattered army, Thames’ filthy… Not a beautiful spectacle For the drinkers of history, or fo… Or my friends, this island’s paral… Wordsworth’s head went down here s…
The apes yawn and adore their flea… The parrots shriek as if they were… Like cheap tarts to attract the st… Fatigued with indolence, tiger and… Lie still as the sun. The boa-con…
He loved her and she loved him His kisses sucked out her whole pa… He had no other appetite She bit him she gnawed him she suc… She wanted him complete inside her
Crow, feeling his brain slip, Finds his every feather the fossil… Who murdered all these? These living dead, that root in hi… Till he is visibly black?
Against the rubber tongues of cows… Thistles spike the summer air And crackle open under a blue—blac… Every one a revengeful burst Of resurrection, a grasphed fistfu…
The dog loved its churlish life, Scraps, thefts. Itsdeclined blood An anarchy of mindless pride. Nobody’s pet, but good enough To double with a bitch as poor.
The swallow of summer, she toils a… A blue—dark knot of glittering vol… A whiplash swimmer, a fish of the… But the serpent of cars that crawl… In shimmering exhaust
To Paint a Water Lily A green level of lily leaves Roofs the pond’s chamber and paves The flies’ furious arena: study These, the two minds of this lady.
Bloody Mary’s venomous flames can… They can shrivel sinew and char bo… Of foot, ankle, knee and thigh, an… Bowels, and drop his heart a cinde… And her soldiers can cry, as they…
Russia and America circle each ot… Threats nudge an act that were wit… A melting of the mould in the moth… Stones melting about the root. The quick of the earth burned out:
The moon not o be named Going over, clear of all poetry, The exhauster of the poetical Faculties of our race, surrenderin… Of her fourth day rights, ignores…
We sit late, watching the dark slo… No clock counts this. When kisses are repeated and the a… There is no telling where time is. It is midsummer: the leaves hang b…
The tractor stands frozen —an agon… To think of. All night Snow packed its open entrails. No… A spill of molten ice, smoking sno… Pours into its steel.