#AmericanWriters
Trundled from the strangeness of the sea —— a kind of heaven —— Ladies and Gentlemen!
The dayseye hugging the earth in August, ha! Spring is gone down in purple, weeds stand high in the corn, the rainbeaten furrow
beauty is a shell from the sea where she rules triumphant till love has had its way with her scallops and
Of asphodel, that greeny flower, like a buttercup upon its branching stem– save that it’s green and wooden– I come, my sweet,
I have eaten the plums that were in the icebox and which
In this world of as fine a pair of breasts as ever I saw the fountain in Madison Square
Vast and grey, the sky is a simulacrum to all but him whose days are vast and grey and— In the tall, dried grasses
Among the rain and lights I saw the figure 5 in gold on a red
Men with picked voices chant the n… of cities in a huge gallery: promi… that pull through descending stair… to a deep rumbling. The rubbing feet
Among of green stiff old
I bought a dish mop— having no daughter— for they had twisted fine ribbons of shining copper about white twine
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
The green-blue ground is ruled with silver lines to say the sun is shining And on this moral sea of grass or dreams lie flowers
Light hearted William twirled his November moustaches and, half dressed, looked from the bedroom window upon the spring weather.
While she sits there with tears on her cheek her cheek on