According to Brueghel when Icarus fell it was spring a farmer was ploughing his field

Trundled from the strangeness of the sea —— a kind of heaven —— Ladies and Gentlemen!

Her body is not so white as anemone petals nor so smooth ——nor so remote a thing. It is a field of the wild carrot taking the field by force; the grass

Nude bodies like peeled logs sometimes give off a sweetest odor, man and woman under the trees in full excess matching the cushion of

If you had come away with me into another state we had been quiet together. But there the sun coming up out of the nothing beyond the lake…

Well, Lizzie Anderson! seventeen… the baby hard to find a father for… What will the good Father in Heav… to the local judge if he do not so… A little two-pointed smile and—pou…

a trouble archaically fettered to produce E Pluribus Unum an island

It was an icy day. We buried the cat, then took her box and set fire to it in the back yard.

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…

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

Let the snake wait under his weed and the writing be of words, slow and quick, sharp to strike, quiet to wait,

SORROW is my own yard where the new grass flames as it has flamed often before but not with the cold fire