(1916)
#AmericanWriters
When over the flowery, sharp pastu… edge, unseen, the salt ocean lifts its form—chicory and daisies tied, released, seem hardly flower… but color and the movement—or the…
Even in the time when as yet I had no certain knowledge of her She sprang from the nest, a young… Whose first flight circled the for… I know now how then she showed me
This horrible but superb painting the parable of the blind without a red in the composition shows a group of beggars leading
Among of green stiff old
These are the desolate, dark weeks when nature in its barrenness equals the stupidity of man. The year plunges into night
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.
"Sweet land" at last! out of sea— the Venusremembering wavelets rippling with laughter—
A rumpled sheet Of brown paper About the length And apparent bulk Of a man was
Upon the table in their bowl in violent disarray of yellow sprays, green spikes of leaves, red pointed petals and curled heads of blue
Again I reply to the triple winds running chromatic fifths of derisi… outside my window: Play louder. You will not succeed. I am
a trouble archaically fettered to produce E Pluribus Unum an island
Take it out in vile whisky, take i… in lifting your skirts to show you… crotches; it is this that is inten… You are it. Your pleas will alway… You too will always go up with the…
Her body is not so white as anemone petals nor so smooth ——nor so remote a thing. It is a field of the wild carrot taking the field by force; the grass
I stopped the car to let the children down where the streets end in the sun at the marsh edge
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.