#Americans #Modernism Fere Verse
It is cold. The white moon is up among her scattered stars— like the bare thighs of the Police Sergeant’s wife—among her five children . . .
This plot of ground facing the waters of this inlet is dedicated to the living presenc… Emily Dickinson Wellcome who was born in England; married;
And yet one arrives somehow, finds himself loosening the hooks… her dress in a strange bedroom— feels the autumn
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.
Light hearted William twirled his November moustaches and, half dressed, looked from the bedroom window upon the spring weather.
SORROW is my own yard where the new grass flames as it has flamed often before but not with the cold fire
These are the desolate, dark weeks when nature in its barrenness equals the stupidity of man. The year plunges into night
Take it out in vile whisky, take i… in lifting your skirts to show you… crotches; it is this that is inten… You are it. Your pleas will alway… You too will always go up with the…
My shoes as I lean unlacing them stand out upon flat worsted flowers under my feet.
In this world of as fine a pair of breasts as ever I saw the fountain in Madison Square
I have eaten the plums that were in the icebox and which
Lady of dusk-wood fastnesses, Thou art my Lady. I have known the crisp, splinterin… White, slender through green sapli… I have lain by thee on the brown f…
The coroner’s merry little childre… Have such twinkling brown eyes. Their father is not of gay men And their mother jocular in no wis… Yet the coroner’s merry little chi…
You Communists and Republicans! all you Germans and Frenchmen! you corpses and quickeners! The stars are about to melt and fall on you in tears.
WHERE shall I find you— You, my grotesque fellows That I seek everywhere To make up my band? None, not one