(1923)
#AmericanWriters #Modernism
Gagarin says, in ecstasy, he could have gone on forever he floated ate and sang
First he said: It is the woman in us That makes us write– Let us acknowledge it– Men would be silent.
Sooner or later we must come to the end of striving to re-establish the image the image of
Even in the time when as yet I had no certain knowledge of her She sprang from the nest, a young… Whose first flight circled the for… I know now how then she showed me
The grass is very green, my friend… and tousled, like the head of —— your grandson, yes? And the mounta… the mountain we climbed twenty years since for the last
In this world of as fine a pair of breasts as ever I saw the fountain in Madison Square
A middle-northern March, now as a… gusts from the South broken agains… but from under, as if a slow hand… it moves—not into April—into a sec… the old skin of wind-clear scales…
The dayseye hugging the earth in August, ha! Spring is gone down in purple, weeds stand high in the corn, the rainbeaten furrow
Not because of his eyes, the eyes of a bird, but because he is beaked, birdlike, to do an injury, has the turtle attracted you.
Why do I write today? The beauty of the terrible faces of our nonentites stirs me to it:
NOW that I have cooled to you Let there be gold of tarnished mas… Temples soothed by the sun to ruin That sleep utterly. Give me hand for the dances,
a trouble archaically fettered to produce E Pluribus Unum an island
A day on the boulevards chosen out… student poverty! One best day out… Berket in high spirits—"Ha, orang… And he made to snatch an orange fr… Now so clever was the deception, s…
This horrible but superb painting the parable of the blind without a red in the composition shows a group of beggars leading
The May sun—whom all things imitate— that glues small leaves to the wooden trees shone from the sky
