Again I reply to the triple winds running chromatic fifths of derisi… outside my window: Play louder. You will not succeed. I am

contend in a sea which the land pa… shielding them from the too—heavy… of an ungoverned ocean which when… tortures the biggest hulls, the be… to pit against its beatings, and s…

The whole process is a lie, unless, crowned by excess, It break forcefully, one way or another,

Warm sun, quiet air an old man sits in the doorway of a broken house— boards for windows

It’s all in the sound. A song. Seldom a song. It should be a song—made of particulars, wasps,

The living quality of the man’s mind stands out and its covert assertions for art, art, art!

The sky has given over its bitterness. Out of the dark change all day long rain falls and falls

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…

If a man can say of his life or any moment of his life, There is nothing more to be desired! his st… becomes like that told in the famo… double sonnet—but without the

I stopped the car to let the children down where the streets end in the sun at the marsh edge

I have discovered that most of the beauties of travel are due to the strange hours we keep to see t… the domes of the Church of the Paulist Fathers in Weehawken

Leaves are graygreen, the glass broken, bright green.