(1916)
#AmericanWriters #Modernism
First he said: It is the woman in us That makes us write– Let us acknowledge it– Men would be silent.
One leaves his leaves at home beomg a mullen and sends up a ligh… to peer from: I will have my way, yellow—A mast with a lantern, ten fifty, a hundred, smaller and smal…
Again I reply to the triple winds running chromatic fifths of derisi… outside my window: Play louder. You will not succeed. I am
Rather notice, mon cher, that the moon is titled above the point of the steeple than that its color
By constantly tormenting them with reminders of the lice in their children’s hair, the School Physician first brought their hatred down on him.
I have had my dream—like others— and it has come to nothing, so tha… I remain now carelessly with feet planted on the ground and look up at the sky—
The sky has given over its bitterness. Out of the dark change all day long rain falls and falls
A three-day-long rain from the eas… an terminable talking, talking of no consequence—patter, patter,… Hand in hand little winds blow the thin streams aslant.
School is over. It is too hot to walk at ease. At ease in light frocks they walk the stre… to while the time away. They have grown tall. They hold
The brutal Lord of All will rip us from each other—leave the one to suffer here alone. No need belief in god or hell to postulate that much. The dance: hands touching, leaves touch...
Of asphodel, that greeny flower, like a buttercup upon its branching stem— save that it’s green and wooden— I come, my sweet,
Flowers through the window lavender and yellow changed by white curtains— Smell of cleanliness— Sunshine of late afternoon—
Why do I write today? The beauty of the terrible faces of our nonentites stirs me to it:
Constantly near you, I never in m… sixty-four years knew you so well… or half so well. We talked. you we… so lucid, so disengaged from all e… of place and time. We talked of ou…
The pure products of America go crazy— mountain folk from Kentucky or the ribbed north end of Jersey
