#AmericanWriters
I feel the caress of my own finger… on my own neck as I place my colla… and think pityingly of the kind women I have known.
All the complicated details of the attiring and the disattiring are completed! A liquid moon moves gently among
Constantly near you, I never in m… sixty-four years knew you so well… or half so well. We talked. you we… so lucid, so disengaged from all e… of place and time. We talked of ou…
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
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…
It’s a strange courage you give me ancient star: Shine alone in the sunrise toward which you lend no part!
In the flashes and black shadows of July the days, locked in each other’s a… seem still so that squirrels and colored bird…
Flowers through the window lavender and yellow changed by white curtains— Smell of cleanliness— Sunshine of late afternoon—
The coroner’s merry little childre… Have such twinkling brown eyes. Their father is not of gay men And their mother jocular in no wis… Yet the coroner’s merry little chi…
Of asphodel, that greeny flower, like a buttercup upon its branching stem– save that it’s green and wooden– I come, my sweet,
Gagarin says, in ecstasy, he could have gone on forever he floated at and sang
From the Nativity which I have already celebrated the Babe in its Mother’s arms the Wise Men in their stolen splendor
Not because of his eyes, the eyes of a bird, but because he is beaked, birdlike, to do an injury, has the turtle attracted you.