Xaipe: Seventy-One Poems
#AmericanWriters #Modernism #1950 #Xaipe
Who threw the silver dollar up i… … lady who sews and grows every day… ing and that’s the truth,
inthe,exquisite; morning sure lyHer eye s exac… among otherlittle roundtables Her… obstre poroustimidi ties surElyfl)… ofpieces ofof sunligh tof fa l l i…
ta ppin g toe hip
cruelly,love walk the autumn long; the last flower in whose hair, they lips are cold with songs for which is
in Just- spring when the world is… luscious the little lame balloonman whistles far and…
somewhere i have never travelled,… any experience,your eyes have thei… in your most frail gesture are thi… or which i cannot touch because th… your slightest look easily will un…
who’s most afraid of death?thou … utterly afraid,i love of thee (beloved)this and truly i would…
It was one of those clear,sharp.mu… That summer and man deligh… Never had Heaven seemed quite so… Never had earth seemed quite so gr… Never had the world seemed quite s…
unto thee i burn incense the bowl crackles upon the gloom arise purple pencil… fluent spires of fragrance
being twelve who hast merely gonorrhea Oldeyed
nobody loses all the time i had an uncle named Sol who was a born failure and nearly everybody said he should ha… into vaudeville perhaps because my…
but the other day i was passing a certain gate, rain fell(as it will in spring)
the rose is dying the lips of an old man murder the petals hush
the sky a silver dissonance by the correct fingers of April resolved into a
suppose Life is an old man carrying flower… young death sits in a café smiling,a piece of money held betw… his thumb and first finger
