#AmericanWriters
When the thunder stalks the sky, When tickle-footed walks the fly, When shirt is wet and throat is dr… Look, my darling, thats July. Through the grassy lawn be leather…
Behold the duck. It does not cluck. A cluck it lacks. It quacks. It is specially fond
Be it a girl, or one of the boys, It is scarlet all over its avoirdu… It is red, it is boiled; could the… Have possibly been a lobstertricia… His degrees and credentials were h…
People expect old men to die, They do not really mourn old men. Old men are different. People loo… At them with eyes that wonder when… People watch with unshocked eyes;
Though you know it anyhow Listen to me, darling, now, Proving what I need not prove How I know I love you, love. Near and far, near and far,
Sure, deck your limbs in pants, Yours are the limbs, my sweeting. You look divine as you advance . .… Have you seen yourself retreating?
My heart leaps up when I behold A rainbow in the sky; Contrariwise, my blood runs cold When little boys go by. For little boys as little boys,
Nothing makes me sicker than liquor and candy is too expandy
A shrimp who sought his lady shrim… Could catch no glimpse Not even a glimp. At times, translucence Is rather a nuisance.
The summer like a rajah dies, And every widowed tree Kindles for Congregationalist eye… An alien suttee.
Some singers sing of ladies’ eyes, And some of ladies lips, Refined ones praise their ladylike… And course ones hymn their hips. The Oxford Book of English Verse
But he went and tried to borrow some money from Ferdinand But Ferdinand said America was a bird in the bush and he’d rather have a berdinand, And he thought, there is no wife like a m...
The doctor gets you when you’re bo… The preacher, when you marry, And the lawyer lurks with costly c… If too much on you carry. Professional men, they have no car…
There is a knocking in the skull, An endless silent shout Of something beating on a wall, And crying, “Let me out!” That solitary prisoner
Master I may be, But not of my fate. Now come the kisses, too many too… Tell me, O Parcae, For fain would I know,
