#Americans #Modernism #XXCentury
beauty is a shell from the sea where she rules triumphant till love has had its way with her scallops and
The living quality of the man’s mind stands out and its covert assertions for art, art, art!
You sullen pig of a man you force me into the mud with your stinking ash-cart! Brother! —if we were rich
Pour the wine bridegroom where before you the bride is enthroned her hair loose at her temples a head of ripe wheat is on
Of asphodel, that greeny flower, like a buttercup upon its branching stem— save that it’s green and wooden— I come, my sweet,
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
Old age is a flight of small cheeping birds skimming bare trees
The over-all picture is winter icy mountains in the background the return from the hunt it is toward evening from the left
You Communists and Republicans! all you Germans and Frenchmen! you corpses and quickeners! The stars are about to melt and fall on you in tears.
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,
It was an icy day. We buried the cat, then took her box and set fire to it in the back yard.
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...
She sits with tears on her cheek her cheek on her hand
This quiet morning light reflected, how many times from grass and tress and clouds enters my north room touching the walls with
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
