Here it is spring again and I still a young man! I am late at my singing. The sparrow with the black rain on… has been at his cadenzas for two w…

In this world of as fine a pair of breasts as ever I saw the fountain in Madison Square

Why pretend to remember the weather two years back? Why not? Listen close then repeat after others what they have just said and win a reputation for vivacity. Oh feed upon petals o...

You sullen pig of a man you force me into the mud with your stinking ash-cart! Brother! —if we were rich

The world begins again! Not wholly insufflated the blackbirds in the rain upon the dead topbranches of the living tree,

Oh strong—ridged and deeply hollow… nose of mine! what will you not be… What tactless asses we are, you an… always indiscriminate, always unas… and now it is the souring flowers…

Yellow, yellow, yellow, yellow! It is not a color. It is summer! It is the wind on a willow, the lap of waves, the shadow

Gagarin says, in ecstasy, he could have gone on forever he floated at and sang

Fools have big wombs. For the rest?—here is pennyroyal if one knows to use it. But time is only another liar, so go along the wall a little further: if blackberries prove bitter there’l...

Why go further? One might conceivably rectify the rhythm, study all out and arrive at the perfection of a tiger lily or a china doorknob. One might lift all out of the ruck, be a worthy...

The half-stripped trees struck by a wind together, bending all, the leaves flutter drily and refuse to let go