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…

It is a small plant delicately branched and tapering conically to a point, each branch and the peak a wire for

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...

And yet one arrives somehow, finds himself loosening the hooks… her dress in a strange bedroom— feels the autumn

From the Nativity which I have already celebrated the Babe in its Mother’s arms the Wise Men in their stolen splendor

THERE is a bird in the poplars— It is the sun! The leaves are little yellow fish Swimming in the river; The bird skims above them—

unless there is a new mind there cannot be a new line

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

Your thighs are appletrees whose blossoms touch the sky. Which sky? The sky where Watteau hung a lady’s slipper. Your knees

Old age is a flight of small cheeping birds skimming bare trees