#AmericanWriters
The dayseye hugging the earth in August, ha! Spring is gone down in purple, weeds stand high in the corn, the rainbeaten furrow
Disciplined by the artist to go round and round in holiday gear a riotously gay rabble of
Beloved you are Caviar of Caviar Of all I love you best O my Japanese bird nest No herring from Norway
Take it out in vile whisky, take i… in lifting your skirts to show you… crotches; it is this that is inten… You are it. Your pleas will alway… You too will always go up with the…
If a man can say of his life or any moment of his life, There is nothing more to be desired! his st… becomes like that told in the famo… double sonnet—but without the
The half-stripped trees struck by a wind together, bending all, the leaves flutter drily and refuse to let go
I lie here thinking of you:—— the stain of love is upon the world! Yellow, yellow, yellow it eats into the leaves,
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
By constantly tormenting them with reminders of the lice in their children’s hair, the School Physician first brought their hatred down on him.
O’eh’lee! La’la! Donna! Donna! Blue is the sky of Palermo; Blue is the little bay; And dost thou remember the orange…
Vast and grey, the sky is a simulacrum to all but him whose days are vast and grey and— In the tall, dried grasses
And yet one arrives somehow, finds himself loosening the hooks… her dress in a strange bedroom— feels the autumn
It was an icy day. We buried the cat, then took her box and set fire to it in the back yard.
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 . . .
They tell me on the morrow I must… This winter eyrie for a southern f… And truth to tell I tremble with… At thought of such unheralded repr… E’er have I known December in a w…