#AmericanWriters
The pure products of America go crazy— mountain folk from Kentucky or the ribbed north end of Jersey
Love is twain, it is not single, Gold and silver mixed to one, Passion 'tis and pain which ming… Glist’ring then for aye undone. Pain it is not; wondering pity
The over-all picture is winter icy mountains in the background the return from the hunt it is toward evening from the left
Why go further? One might conceivably rectify the rhythm, study all out and arrive at the perfection of a tiger lily or a china doorknob. One might lift all out of the ruck, be a w...
contend in a sea which the land pa… shielding them from the too—heavy… of an ungoverned ocean which when… tortures the biggest hulls, the be… to pit against its beatings, and s…
Gagarin says, in ecstasy, he could have gone on forever he floated ate and sang
Among the rain and lights I saw the figure 5 in gold on a red
O’eh’lee! La’la! Donna! Donna! Blue is the sky of Palermo; Blue is the little bay; And dost thou remember the orange…
An old willow with hollow branches slowly swayed his few high gright… and sang: Love is a young green willow shimmering at the bare wood’s edge…
It is a satisfaction a joy to have one of those in the house. when she takes a bath
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
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…
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...
a trouble archaically fettered to produce E Pluribus Unum an island
You say love is this, love is that… Poplar tassels, willow tendrils the wind and the rain comb, tinkle and drip, tinkle and drip— branches drifting apart. Hagh!