#Americans #Modernism #XXCentury
O’eh’lee! La’la! Donna! Donna! Blue is the sky of Palermo; Blue is the little bay; And dost thou remember the orange…
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…
Trundled from the strangeness of the sea —— a kind of heaven —— Ladies and Gentlemen!
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…
By constantly tormenting them with reminders of the lice in their children’s hair, the School Physician first brought their hatred down on him.
The coroner’s merry little childre… Have such twinkling brown eyes. Their father is not of gay men And their mother jocular in no wis… Yet the coroner’s merry little chi…
I feel the caress of my own finger… on my own neck as I place my colla… and think pityingly of the kind women I have known.
If when my wife is sleeping and the baby and Kathleen are sleeping and the sun is a flame-white disc in silken mists
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.
It was an icy day. We buried the cat, then took her box and set fire to it in the back yard.
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 worthy...
unless there is a new mind there cannot be a new line
The rose is obsolete but each petal ends in an edge, the double facet cementing the grooved columns of air ——The edge
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
