#AmericanWriters
Beloved you are Caviar of Caviar Of all I love you best O my Japanese bird nest No herring from Norway
Ecstatic bird songs pound the hollow vastness of the sky with metallic clinkings— beating color up into it at a far edge,—beating it, beating…
From the Nativity which I have already celebrated the Babe in its Mother’s arms the Wise Men in their stolen splendor
She sits with tears on her cheek her cheek on her hand
O—EH—lee! La—la! Donna! Donna! Blue is the sky of Palermo; Blue is the little bay; And dost thou remember the orange…
Pour the wine bridegroom where before you the bride is enthroned her hair loose at her temples a head of ripe wheat is on
The sky has given over its bitterness. Out of the dark change all day long rain falls and falls
You sullen pig of a man you force me into the mud with your stinking ash-cart! Brother! —if we were rich
Again I reply to the triple winds running chromatic fifths of derisi… outside my window: Play louder. You will not succeed. I am
The rose is obsolete but each petal ends in an edge, the double facet cementing the grooved columns of air—The edge
While she sits there with tears on her cheek her cheek on
Of asphodel, that greeny flower, like a buttercup upon its branching stem— save that it’s green and wooden— I come, my sweet,
unless there is a new mind there cannot be a new line
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…
WHERE shall I find you— You, my grotesque fellows That I seek everywhere To make up my band? None, not one