(1923)
#Americans #Modernism #XXCentury
And yet one arrives somehow, finds himself loosening the hooks… her dress in a strange bedroom— feels the autumn
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 the field by force; the grass
A power-house in the shape of a red brick chair 90 feet high on the seat of which
NOW that I have cooled to you Let there be gold of tarnished mas… Temples soothed by the sun to ruin That sleep utterly. Give me hand for the dances,
Why do I write today? The beauty of the terrible faces of our nonentites stirs me to it:
Among of green stiff old
I stopped the car to let the children down where the streets end in the sun at the marsh edge
Why pretend to remember the weather two years back? Why not? Listen close then repeat after others what they have just said and win a reputation for vivacity. Oh feed upon petals o...
A three-day-long rain from the eas… an terminable talking, talking of no consequence—patter, patter,… Hand in hand little winds blow the thin streams aslant.
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 . . .
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...
Among the rain and lights I saw the figure 5 in gold on a red
I gotta buy me a new girdle. (I’ll buy you one) O.K.
The rose is obsolete but each petal ends in an edge, the double facet cementing the grooved columns of air ——The edge
You know there is not much that I desire, a few chrysanthemum… half lying on the grass, yellow and brown and white, the talk of a few people, the trees,
