#AmericanWriters
DOLE THE BELL! BELL THE… Whom can these duds attack? Soapy Sime? Slipp’ry Mac? Naught but a shirt is there Such as the fascists wear,
Let us deride the smugness of 'Th… So much for the gagged reviewers, It will pay them when the worms ar… vitals; These are they who objected to new…
FROM PROPERTIUS, ELEG… Here let thy clemency, Persephone… Do thou, Pluto, bring here no gre… So many thousand beauties are gone… Ye might let one remain above with…
What if I know thy speeches word… And if thou knew’st I knew them w… What if I know thy speeches word… And all the time thou sayest them… ‘Lo, one there was who bent her fa…
Come, let us pity those who are be… Come, my friend, and remember t hat the rich have butlers… And we have friends and no butlers… Come, let us pity the married and…
Your songs? Oh! The little mothers Will sing them in the twilight, And when the night Shrinketh the kiss of the dawn
No, no! Go from me. I have left h… I will not spoil my sheath with le… For my surrounding air hath a new… Slight are her arms, yet they have… And left me cloaked as with a gauz…
(Abbreviated from the conversation… Over the flat slope of St Eloi A wide wall of sandbags. Night, In the silence desultory men
Gone while your tastes were keen t… Gone where the grey winds call to… By that high fencer, even Death, Struck of the blade that no man pa… Such is your fence, one saith,
Luini in porcelain! The grand piano Utters a profane Protest with her clear soprano. The sleek head emerges
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…
Jove, be merciful to that unfortun… Or an ornamental death will be hel… The time is come, the air heaves i… The dry earth pants against the ca… But this heat is not the root of t…
A Hymn to the Dope Goddess of the murmuring courts, Nicotine, my Nicotine, Houri of the mystic sports, trailing—robed in gabardine,
To one, on returning certain years… You wore the same quite correct cl… You took no pleasure at all in my… You had the same old air of condes… Mingled with a curious fear
We’ll go no more a-roving by the l… November glooms are barren beside… The summer flowers are faded, the… We’ll go no more a-roving, lest wo… We’ll go no more a-roving by the l…