#Americans #Modernism #XXCentury
unless there is a new mind there cannot be a new line
I feel the caress of my own finger… on my own neck as I place my colla… and think pityingly of the kind women I have known.
The over-all picture is winter icy mountains in the background the return from the hunt it is toward evening from the left
I will teach you my towns… how to perform a funeral… for you have it over a tr… of artists— unless one should scour t…
This plot of ground facing the waters of this inlet is dedicated to the living presenc… Emily Dickinson Wellcome who was born in England; married;
I have eaten the plums that were in the icebox and which
The pure products of America go crazy— mountain folk from Kentucky or the ribbed north end of Jersey
It is still warm enough to slip from the weeds into the lake’s edge, your clothes blushing in the grass and three small boys grinning behind the derelict hearth’s side. But summer...
When I am alone I am happy. The air is cool. The sky is flecked and splashed and wound with color. The crimson phalloi of the sassafras leaves
Go to sleep—though of course you w… to tideless waves thundering slant… strong embankments, rattle and swi… dashed thirty feet high, caught by… scattered and strewn broadcast in…
Why do I write today? The beauty of the terrible faces of our nonentites stirs me to it:
The dayseye hugging the earth in August, ha! Spring is gone down in purple, weeds stand high in the corn, the rainbeaten furrow
Well, Lizzie Anderson! seventeen… the baby hard to find a father for… What will the good Father in Heav… to the local judge if he do not so… A little two-pointed smile and—pou…
These are the desolate, dark weeks when nature in its barrenness equals the stupidity of man. The year plunges into night
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