#AmericanWriters
A day on the boulevards chosen out… student poverty! One best day out… Berket in high spirits—"Ha, orang… And he made to snatch an orange fr… Now so clever was the deception, s…
so much depends upon a red wheel barrow glazed with rain
The murderer’s little daughter who is barely ten years old jerks her shoulders right and left so as to catch a glimpse of me
This particular thing, whether it be four pinches of four divers white powders cleverly compounded to cure surely, safely, pleasantly a painful twitching of the eyelids or say a pe...
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…
I lie here thinking of you:—— the stain of love is upon the world! Yellow, yellow, yellow it eats into the leaves,
As the cat climbed over the top of the jamcloset first the right
Among of green stiff old
She sits with tears on her cheek her cheek on her hand
From the Nativity which I have already celebrated the Babe in its Mother’s arms the Wise Men in their stolen splendor
It’s all in the sound. A song. Seldom a song. It should be a song—made of particulars, wasps,
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…
There were some dirty plates and a glass of milk beside her on a small table near the rank, disheveled bed— Wrinkled and nearly blind
Of asphodel, that greeny flower, like a buttercup upon its branching stem— save that it’s green and wooden— I come, my sweet,
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.