The May sun—whom all things imitate— that glues small leaves to the wooden trees shone from the sky

You sullen pig of a man you force me into the mud with your stinking ash-cart! Brother! —if we were rich

The whole process is a lie, unless, crowned by excess, It break forcefully, one way or another,

Vast and grey, the sky is a simulacrum to all but him whose days are vast and grey and— In the tall, dried grasses

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

The grass is very green, my friend… and tousled, like the head of —— your grandson, yes? And the mounta… the mountain we climbed twenty years since for the last

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

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 murderer’s little daughter who is barely ten years old jerks her shoulders right and left so as to catch a glimpse of me

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…

Gagarin says, in ecstasy, he could have gone on forever he floated ate and sang

This is a slight stiff dance to a waking baby whose arms have been lying curled back above his head upon the pillow, making a flower—the eyes closed. Dead to the world! Waking is a...

Paterson lies in the valley under… its spent waters forming the outli… lies on his right side, head near… of the waters filling his dreams!… his dreams walk about the city whe…

SOFT as the bed in the earth Where a stone has lain— So soft, so smooth and so cool, Spring closes me in With her arms and her hands.