the mind is its own beautiful pris… Mind looked long at the sticky moo… opening in dusk her new wings then decently hanged himself,one a… The last thing he saw was you

the bigness of cannon is skilful, but i have seen death’s clever enormous voice which hides in a fragility

the bed is not very big a sufficient pillow shoveling her small manure-shaped head one sheet on which distinctly wags at times the weary twig

“kitty”. sixteen,5′ 11″,white,pros… ducking always the touch of must a… whose slippery body is Death’s lit… skilled in quick softness.  Unspon… the signal perfume of whose unrepu…

into the smiting sky tense with blend ing

one April dusk the sallow street-lamps were turning snowy against a west of robin’s eg… i entered a mad street whose mouth dripped with slavver of

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

god gloats upon Her stunning flesh… the rechings of Her green body amo… unseen things, things obscene (Who… the caving ages curiously con) —but the lunge of Her hunger softl…

the hills like poets put on purple thought against the magnificent clamor of

who’s most afraid of death?thou … utterly afraid,i love of thee (beloved)this                  and truly i would…

of this wilting wall the colour dr… souring sunbeams,of a foetal fragr… to rickety unclosed blinds inslant… peregrinate,a cigar-stub disintegrates,above,underdrawers c…

somewhere i have never travelled,… any experience,your eyes have thei… in your most frail gesture are thi… or which i cannot touch because th… your slightest look easily will un…