(1921)
#AmericanWriters
The sky has given over its bitterness. Out of the dark change all day long rain falls and falls
One leaves his leaves at home beomg a mullen and sends up a ligh… to peer from: I will have my way, yellow—A mast with a lantern, ten fifty, a hundred, smaller and smal…
Upon the table in their bowl in violent disarray of yellow sprays, green spikes of leaves, red pointed petals and curled heads of blue
Tracks of rain and light linger in the spongy greens of a nature whos… flickering mountain—bulging nearer… ebbing back into the sun hollowing itself away to hold a la…
It’s a strange courage you give me ancient star: Shine alone in the sunrise toward which you lend no part!
THE ARCHER is wake! The Swan is flying! Gold against blue An Arrow is lying. There is hunting in heaven—
Again I reply to the triple winds running chromatic fifths of derisi… outside my window: Play louder. You will not succeed. I am
Rather notice, mon cher, that the moon is titled above the point of the steeple than that its color
The crowd at the ball game is moved uniformly by a spirit of uselessness which delights them— all the exciting detail
WHERE shall I find you— You, my grotesque fellows That I seek everywhere To make up my band? None, not one
It is a small plant delicately branched and tapering conically to a point, each branch and the peak a wire for
In Brueghel’s great picture, The… the dancers go round, they go roun… around, the squeal and the blare a… tweedle of bagpipes, a bugle and f… tipping their bellies (round as th…
O—EH—lee! La—la! Donna! Donna! Blue is the sky of Palermo; Blue is the little bay; And dost thou remember the orange…
The grass is very green, my friend… and tousled, like the head of —— your grandson, yes? And the mounta… the mountain we climbed twenty years since for the last
She sits with tears on her cheek her cheek on her hand
