#AmericanWriters
i spoke to thee with a smile and thou didst not answer thy mouth is as a chord of crimson music
beyond the brittle towns asleep beyond the brittle towns asleep i look where stealing needles of f… in the last light thread the creeping shores
gee i like to think of dead it mea… since darker than little round wat… too cool to be crooked and it’s to… and thick and it loves, every ol… jackknives and kittens and pennies…
the hills like poets put on purple thought against the magnificent clamor of
love is more thicker than forget more thinner than recall more seldom than a wave is wet more frequent than to fail it is most mad and moonly
Paris;this April sunset completel… utters serenely silently a cathedr… before whose upward lean magnifice… the streets turn young with rain, spiral acres of bloated rose
a blue woman with sticking out bre… clothes. On the line. not so old for the mother of twelve undershir… by is it Bishop Taylor who needs… that marriage is a sure cure for m…
unto thee i burn incense the bowl crackles upon the gloom arise purple pencil… fluent spires of fragrance
one day a nigger caught in his hand a little star no bigger than not to understand “i’ll never let you go
and what were roses. Perfume?for… forget…or mere Music mounting unsu… twilight but here were somethin… childish,more beautiful almost tha…
between green mountains sings the flinger of fire beyond red rivers
the rose is dying the lips of an old man murder the petals hush
“next to of course god america i love you land of the pilgrims’ and… say can you see by the dawn’s earl… country 'tis of centuries come and… and are no more what of it we shou…
if I should sleep with a lady call… get another man with firmer lips to take your new mouth in his teet… (hips pumping pleasure into hips). Seeing how the limp huddling strin…
when faces called flowers float ou… and breathing is wishing and wishi… but keeping is downward and doubti… —it’s april(yes, april;my darling)… yes the pretty birds frolic as spr…