#AmericanWriters
Gagarin says, in ecstasy, he could have gone on forever he floated ate and sang
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!
Vast and grey, the sky is a simulacrum to all but him whose days are vast and grey and— In the tall, dried grasses
Lady of dusk-wood fastnesses, Thou art my Lady. I have known the crisp, splinterin… White, slender through green sapli… I have lain by thee on the brown f…
At ten AM the young housewife moves about in negligee behind the wooden walls of her husband’s… I pass solitary in my car. Then again she comes to the curb
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
ALL those treasures that lie in t… Mightier than the room of the star… All those treasures—I hold them i… Against the sides and the lid and… Crying that there is no sun come a…
You sullen pig of a man you force me into the mud with your stinking ash-cart! Brother! —if we were rich
I gotta buy me a new girdle. (I’ll buy you one) O.K.
It’s a strange courage you give me ancient star: Shine alone in the sunrise toward which you lend no part!
Each time it rings I think it is for me but it is not for me nor for anyone it merely
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…
You know there is not much that I desire, a few chrysanthemum… half lying on the grass, yellow and brown and white, the talk of a few people, the trees,
I have discovered that most of the beauties of travel are due to the strange hours we keep to see t… the domes of the Church of the Paulist Fathers in Weehawken
