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.

This is a schoolyard crowded with children of all ages near a village on a small stream

My wife’s new pink slippers have gay pompons. There is not a spot or a stain on their satin toes or their sides… All night they lie together

In the flashes and black shadows of July the days, locked in each other’s a… seem still so that squirrels and colored bird…

Beloved you are Caviar of Caviar Of all I love you best O my Japanese bird nest No herring from Norway

School is over. It is too hot to walk at ease. At ease in light frocks they walk the stre… to while the time away. They have grown tall. They hold

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...

unless there is a new mind there cannot be a new line

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,

THERE is a bird in the poplars— It is the sun! The leaves are little yellow fish Swimming in the river; The bird skims above them—

Sooner or later we must come to the end of striving to re-establish the image the image of

And yet one arrives somehow, finds himself loosening the hooks… her dress in a strange bedroom— feels the autumn