A three-day-long rain from the eas… an terminable talking, talking of no consequence—patter, patter,… Hand in hand little winds blow the thin streams aslant.

Upon the table in their bowl in violent disarray of yellow sprays, green spikes of leaves, red pointed petals and curled heads of blue

I have eaten the plums that were in the icebox and which

Your thighs are appletrees whose blossoms touch the sky. Which sky? The sky where Watteau hung a lady’s slipper. Your knees

Tracks of rain and light linger in the spongy greens of a nature whos… flickering mountain—bulging nearer… ebbing back into the sun hollowing itself away to hold a la…

a trouble archaically fettered to produce E Pluribus Unum an island

All the complicated details of the attiring and the disattiring are completed! A liquid moon moves gently among

It is a small plant delicately branched and tapering conically to a point, each branch and the peak a wire for

From the Nativity which I have already celebrated the Babe in its Mother’s arms the Wise Men in their stolen splendor

I gotta buy me a new girdle. (I’ll buy you one) O.K.

It was an icy day. We buried the cat, then took her box and set fire to it in the back yard.

Mr T. bareheaded in a soiled undershirt his hair standing out on all sides

Tho’ I’m no Catholic I listen hard when the bells in the yellow—brick tower of their new church ring down the leaves

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

The little sparrows hop ingenuously about the pavement quarreling with sharp voices