#AmericanWriters
Green arsenic smeared on an egg-wh… Crushed strawberries! Come, let u…
When I was only a youngster, Sing: toodle doodlede ootl Ole Kate would git her 'arf a pin… And wouldn’t’ giv’ a damn hoot. ‘Them stairs! them stairs, them go…
Why does the horse-faced lady of j… Walk down Longacre reciting Swinb… Why does the small child in the so… Crawl in the very black gutter ben… Why does the really handsome young…
For three years, out of key with h… He strove to resuscitate the dead… Of poetry; to maintain “the sublim… In the old sense. Wrong from the… No, hardly, but seeing he had been…
O my fellow sufferers, songs of my… A lot of asses praise you because… We, you, I! We are 'Red Bloods’! Imagine it, my fellow sufferers Our maleness lifts us out of the r…
I had been seen in the shade, recu… The water dripping from Belleroph… Alba, your kings, and the realm yo… have constructed with such industr… Shall be yawned out on my lyre wit…
The gilded phaloi of the crocuses are thrusting at the spring air. Here is there naught of dead gods But a procession of festival, A procession, Giulio Romano,
Green arsenic smeared on an egg—wh… Crushed strawberries! Come, let u…
Ko-Jin goes west from Ko-kaku-ro, The smoke-flowers are blurred over… His lone sail blots the far sky. And now I see only the river, The long Kiang, reaching heaven.
O Chansons foregoing You were a seven days’ wonder. When you came out in the magazines You created considerable stir in… And now you are stale and worn out…
We shall surely die: Must we needs grow old? Grow old and cold, And we know not why? O, the By-and-By,
The surges gushed and sounded, The blue was the blue of June, And low above the brightening east Floated a shred of moon. The woods were black and solemn,
Why, my heart, do we love her so? (Geraldine, Geraldine!) Why does the great sea ebb and flo… Why does the round world spin? Geraldine, Geraldine,
Vex not thou the banker’s mind (His what?) with a show of sense, Vex it not, Willie, his mind, Or pierce its pretence On the supposition that it ever
Lady of rich allure, Queen of the spring’s embrace, Your arms are long like boughs of… Mid laugh—broken streams, spirit o… Breath of the poppy flower,