#AmericanWriters
The wasp and all his numerous fami… I look upon as a major calamity. He throws open his nest with prodi… But I distrust his waspitality.
The summer like a rajah dies, And every widowed tree Kindles for Congregationalist eye… An alien suttee.
One thing that literature would be… Would be a more restricted employm… metaphor. Authors of all races, be they Gre… Can’t seem just to say that anythi…
There is something about a Martin… A tingle remarkably pleasant; A yellow, a mellow Martini; I wish I had one at present. There is something about a Martin…
My fellow man I do not care for. I often ask me, What’s he there f… The only answer I can find Is, Reproduction of his kind. If I’m supposed to swallow that,
I test my bath before I sit, And I’m always moved to wondermen… That what chills the finger not a… Is so frigid upon the fundament.
May I join you in the doghouse, R… I wish to retire till the party’s… Since three o’clock I’ve done my… To entertain each tiny guest. My… And if they want me, let them find…
Higgledy piggledy, my black hen, She lays eggs for gentlemen. Gentlemen come every day To count what my black hen doth la… If perchance she lays too many,
There here are words of radical ad… Young man, be a snob. Yes, if you are in search of argum… Why I’ve gottem. Let the personnel managers differ;
O all ye exorcizers come and exorcize now, and ye clergymen draw nigh and clerge, For I wish to be purged of an urge. It is an irksome urge, compounded of nettles and glue, And it is...
Foreigners are people somewhere el… Natives are people at home; If the place you’re at Is your habitat, You’re a foreigner, say in Rome.
When people aren’t asking question… They’re making suggestions And when they’re not doing one of… They’re either looking over your s… And then as if that weren’t enough…
They tell me that euphoria is the… well, today I feel euphorian, Today I have the agility of a Gre… Victorian. Yes, today I may even go forth wi…
The solitary huntsman No coat of pink doth wear, But midnight black from cap to spu… Upon his midnight mare. He drones a tuneless jingle
