the back wings of the hospital where nothing will grow lie

The whole process is a lie, unless, crowned by excess, It break forcefully, one way or another,

The world begins again! Not wholly insufflated the blackbirds in the rain upon the dead topbranches of the living tree,

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

In the flashes and black shadows of July the days, locked in each other’s a… seem still so that squirrels and colored bird…

One leaves his leaves at home beomg a mullen and sends up a ligh… to peer from: I will have my way, yellow—A mast with a lantern, ten fifty, a hundred, smaller and smal…

In this world of as fine a pair of breasts as ever I saw the fountain in Madison Square

Warm sun, quiet air an old man sits in the doorway of a broken house— boards for windows

My wife’s new pink slippers have gay pompons. There is not a spot or a stain on their satin toes or their sides… All night they lie together

If you had come away with me into another state we had been quiet together. But there the sun coming up out of the nothing beyond the lake…

Of asphodel, that greeny flower, like a buttercup upon its branching stem– save that it’s green and wooden– I come, my sweet,

The rose is obsolete but each petal ends in an edge, the double facet cementing the grooved columns of air ——The edge

This particular thing, whether it be four pinches of four divers white powders cleverly compounded to cure surely, safely, pleasantly a painful twitching of the eyelids or say a pe...

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

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…