#AmericanWriters
Gagarin says, in ecstasy, he could have gone on forever he floated ate and sang
Oh, black Persian cat! Was not your life already cursed with offspring? We took you for rest to that old Yankee farm, —so lonely
A big young bareheaded woman in an apron Her hair slicked back standing on the street One stockinged foot toeing
I have had my dream—like others— and it has come to nothing, so tha… I remain now carelessly with feet planted on the ground and look up at the sky—
Paterson lies in the valley under… its spent waters forming the outli… lies on his right side, head near… of the waters filling his dreams!… his dreams walk about the city whe…
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—
Nude bodies like peeled logs sometimes give off a sweetest odor, man and woman under the trees in full excess matching the cushion of
Of asphodel, that greeny flower, like a buttercup upon its branching stem– save that it’s green and wooden– I come, my sweet,
It is a willow when summer is over… a willow by the river from which no leaf has fallen nor bitten by the sun turned orange or crimson.
I have eaten the plums that were in the icebox and which
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
munching a plum on the street a paper bag of them in her hand They taste good to her They taste good
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...
Mr T. bareheaded in a soiled undershirt his hair standing out on all sides
You sullen pig of a man you force me into the mud with your stinking ash-cart! Brother! —if we were rich