#AmericanWriters
Black lake, black boat, two black,… Where do the black trees go that d… Their shadows must cover Canada. A little light is filtering from t… Their leaves do not wish us to hur…
In sunless air, under pines Green to the point of blackness, s… Founding father set these lobed, w… To loom in the leaf-filtered gloom Black as the charred knuckle-bones
A garden of mouthings. Purple, sc… The great corollas dilate, peeling… Their musk encroaches, circle afte… A well of scents almost too dense… Hieratical in your frock coat, mae…
Now this particular girl During a ceremonious april walk With her latest suitor Found herself, of a sudden, intole… By the birds’ irregular babel
It is ten years, now, since we row… The sun flamed straight down that… That summer we wore black glasses… We were always crying, in our spar… In the two, huge, white, handsome…
In the Archæological Museum in C… coffin of the fourth century A.D.… of a woman, a mouse and a shrew. T… woman has been slightly gnawed. Rigged poker —stiff on her back
I have done it again. One year in every ten I manage it— A sort of walking miracle, my skin Bright as a Nazi lampshade,
Blameless as daylight I stood loo… At a field of horses, necks bent,… Tails streaming against the green Backdrop of sycamores. Sun was st… White chapel pinnacles over the ro…
The scene stands stubborn: skinfli… Hoard last year’s leaves, won’t mo… To elegiac dryads, and dour grass Guards the hard-hearted emerald of… However the grandiloquent mind may…
All morning in the strawberry fiel… They talked about the Russians. Squatted down between the rows We listened. We heard the head woman say,
Old man, you surface seldom. Then you come in with the tide’s coming When seas wash cold, foam— Capped: white hair, white beard,
O half moon— Half-brain, luminosity— Negro, masked like a white, Your dark Amputations crawl and appall—
I’m through with this grand lookin… where adjectives play croquet with… methinks I shall absent me for a w… from rhetoric of these rococo quee… Item: chuck out royal rigmarole of…
We came over the moor—top Through air streaming and green—li… Stone farms foundering in it, Valleys of grass altering In a light neither dawn
Stasis in darkness. Then the substanceless blue Pour of tor and distances. God’s lioness, How one we grow,