#AmericanWriters
Enter the chilly no-man’s land of… Five o’clock in the morning, the n… Where the waking head rubbishes ou… Of sulfurous dreamscapes and obscu… Which seemed, when dreamed, to mea…
On storm—struck deck, wind sirens… With each tilt, shock and shudder,… Cleaves forward into fury; dark as… Waves wallop, assaulting the stubb… Flayed by spray, we take the chall…
It is no night to drown in: A full moon, river lapsing Black beneath bland mirror—sheen, The blue water—mists dropping Scrim after scrim like fishnets
Nightfall, cold eye——neither dishe… These goatish tragedians who Hawk misfortune like figs and chic… And, plaintiff against each day, d… Nature’s partial, haphazard thumb.
But I would rather be horizontal. I am not a tree with my root in th… Sucking up minerals and motherly l… So that each March I may gleam in… Nor am I the beauty of a garden b…
Kindness glides about my house. Dame Kindness, she is so nice! The blue and red jewels of her rin… In the windows, the mirrors Are filling with smiles.
I came before the water— Colorists came to get the Good of the Cape light that scour… Sand grit to sided crystal And buffs and sleeks the blunt hul…
It is a chilly god, a god of shade… Rises to the glass from his black… At the window, those unborn, those… Assemble with the frail paleness o… An envious phosphorescence in thei…
In the rectory garden on his eveni… Paced brisk Father Shawn. A cold… In black Novemeber. After a slidi… Dew stood in chill sweat on each s… Each thorn; spiring from wet earth…
This is winter, this is night, sma… A sort of black horsehair, A rough, dumb country stuff Steeled with the sheen Of what green stars can make it to…
I’ve got a stubborn goose whose gu… Honeycombed with golden eggs, Yet won’t lay one. She, addled in her goose-wit, stru… The barnyard like those taloned ha…
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…
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…
With white frost gone And all green dreams not worth muc… After a lean day’s work Time comes round for that foul slu… Mere bruit of her takes our street
The smile of iceboxes annihilates… Such blue currents in the veins of… I hear her great heart purr. From her lips ampersands and perce… Exit like kisses.
