#Americans #Modernism #XXCentury
It is a willow when summer is over… a willow by the river from which no leaf has fallen nor bitten by the sun turned orange or crimson.
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
It was an icy day. We buried the cat, then took her box and set fire to it in the back yard.
She sits with tears on her cheek her cheek on her hand
And yet one arrives somehow, finds himself loosening the hooks… her dress in a strange bedroom— feels the autumn
Rather notice, mon cher, that the moon is titled above the point of the steeple than that its color
In Brueghel’s great picture, The… the dancers go round, they go roun… around, the squeal and the blare a… tweedle of bagpipes, a bugle and f… tipping their bellies (round as th…
If you had come away with me into another state we had been quiet together. But there the sun coming up out of the nothing beyond the lake…
The world begins again! Not wholly insufflated the blackbirds in the rain upon the dead topbranches of the living tree,
It is cold. The white moon is up among her scattered stars— like the bare thighs of the Police Sergeant’s wife—among her five children . . .
O’eh’lee! La’la! Donna! Donna! Blue is the sky of Palermo; Blue is the little bay; And dost thou remember the orange…
This is a schoolyard crowded with children of all ages near a village on a small stream
This horrible but superb painting the parable of the blind without a red in the composition shows a group of beggars leading
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
A power-house in the shape of a red brick chair 90 feet high on the seat of which
