#AmericanWriters
Nude bodies like peeled logs sometimes give off a sweetest odor, man and woman under the trees in full excess matching the cushion of
I gotta buy me a new girdle. (I’ll buy you one) O.K.
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 thefield by force; the grass
The May sun—whom all things imitate— that glues small leaves to the wooden trees shone from the sky
According to Brueghel when Icarus fell it was spring a farmer was ploughing his field
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 crowd at the ball game is moved uniformly by a spirit of uselessness which delights them— all the exciting detail
Pour the wine bridegroom where before you the bride is enthroned her hair loose at her temples a head of ripe wheat is on
Gagarin says, in ecstasy, he could have gone on forever he floated at and sang
"Sweet land" at last! out of sea— the Venusremembering wavelets rippling with laughter—
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
This quiet morning light reflected, how many times from grass and tress and clouds enters my north room touching the walls with
Fools have big wombs. For the rest?'here is pennyroyal if one knows to use it. But time is only another liar, so go along the wall a little further: if blackberries prove bitter...