#AmericanWriters
a burst of iris so that come down for breakfast we searched through the rooms for
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…
In this world of as fine a pair of breasts as ever I saw the fountain in Madison Square
You sullen pig of a man you force me into the mud with your stinking ash-cart! Brother! —if we were rich
so much depends upon a red wheel barrow glazed with rain
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
What have I to say to you When we shall meet? Yet— I lie here thinking of you. The stain of love
Snow falls: years of anger following hours that float idly down — the blizzard drifts its weight
Trundled from the strangeness of the sea —— a kind of heaven —— Ladies and Gentlemen!
Again I reply to the triple winds running chromatic fifths of derisi… outside my window: Play louder. You will not succeed. I am
This quiet morning light reflected, how many times from grass and tress and clouds enters my north room touching the walls with
Constantly near you, I never in m… sixty-four years knew you so well… or half so well. We talked. you we… so lucid, so disengaged from all e… of place and time. We talked of ou…
The grass is very green, my friend… and tousled, like the head of —— your grandson, yes? And the mounta… the mountain we climbed twenty years since for the last
Flowers through the window lavender and yellow changed by white curtains— Smell of cleanliness— Sunshine of late afternoon—
A day on the boulevards chosen out… student poverty! One best day out… Berket in high spirits—"Ha, orang… And he made to snatch an orange fr… Now so clever was the deception, s…