#Americans #Modernism #XXCentury
Of asphodel, that greeny flower, like a buttercup upon its branching stem— save that it’s green and wooden— I come, my sweet,
I must tell you this young tree whose round and firm trunk between the wet pavement and the gutter
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...
In this world of as fine a pair of breasts as ever I saw the fountain in Madison Square
First he said: It is the woman in us That makes us write– Let us acknowledge it– Men would be silent.
a burst of iris so that come down for breakfast we searched through the rooms for
A big young bareheaded woman in an apron Her hair slicked back standing on the street One stockinged foot toeing
Let the snake wait under his weed and the writing be of words, slow and quick, sharp to strike, quiet to wait,
Subtle, clever brain, wiser than… by what devious means do you contr… to remain idle? Teach me, O maste…
SORROW is my own yard where the new grass flames as it has flamed often before but not with the cold fire
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
munching a plum on the street a paper bag of them in her hand They taste good to her They taste good
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
The half-stripped trees struck by a wind together, bending all, the leaves flutter drily and refuse to let go
I stopped the car to let the children down where the streets end in the sun at the marsh edge