#AmericanWriters
I dreamed that dead, and meditatin… I lay upon a grave, or bed, (at least, some cold and close—bui… In the cold heart, its final thoug… stood frozen, drawn immense and cl…
This is the time of year when almost every night the frail, illegal fire balloons a… Climbing the mountain height, rising toward a saint
At low tide like this how sheer th… White, crumbling ribs of marl prot… and the boats are dry, the pilings… Absorbing, rather than being absor… the water in the bight doesn’t wet…
The art of losing isn’t hard to ma… so many things seem filled with th… to be lost that their loss is no d… Lose something every day. Accept… of lost door keys, the hour badly…
The great light cage has broken up… freeing, I think, about a million… whose wild ascending shadows will… and all the wires come falling dow… No cage, no frightening birds; the…
Land lies in water; it is shadowed… Shadows, or are they shallows, at… showing the line of long sea-weede… where weeds hang to the simple blu… Or does the land lean down to lift…
We must admire her perfect aim, this huntress of the winter air whose level weapon needs no sight, if it were not that everywhere her game is sure, her shot is righ…
In Worcester, Massachusetts, I went with Aunt Consuelo to keep her dentist’s appointment and sat and waited for her in the dentist’s waiting room.
Caught —the bubble in the spirit level, a creature divided; and the compass needle wobbling and wavering,
This is not my home. How did I ge… be over that way somewhere. I am the color of wine, of tinta.… right claw is saffron—yellow. See,… flag. I am dapper and elegant; I…
Wasted, wasted minutes that couldn… minutes of a barbaric condescensio… —Stare out the bathroom window at… at their dark needles, accretions… woodenly crystallized, and where t…
Each day with so much ceremony begins, with birds, with bells, with whistles from a factory; such white—gold skies our eyes first open on, such brilliant wall…
We’d rather have the iceberg than… although it meant the end of trave… Although it stood stock—still like… and all the sea were moving marble… We’d rather have the iceberg than…
There are too many waterfalls here… hurry too rapidly down to the sea, and the pressure of so many clouds… makes them spill over the sides in… turning to waterfalls under our ve…
In your next letter I wish you’d… where you are going and what you a… how are the plays and after the pl… what other pleasures you’re pursui… taking cabs in the middle of the n…