(1923)
#AmericanWriters
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…
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…
Why pretend to remember the weather two years back? Why not? Listen close then repeat after others what they have just said and win a reputation for vivacity. Oh feed upon petals o...
The little sparrows hop ingenuously about the pavement quarreling with sharp voices
It is a small plant delicately branched and tapering conically to a point, each branch and the peak a wire for
Among of green stiff old
School is over. It is too hot to walk at ease. At ease in light frocks they walk the stre… to while the time away. They have grown tall. They hold
The brutal Lord of All will rip us from each other—leave the one to suffer here alone. No need belief in god or hell to postulate that much. The dance: hands touching, leaves touch...
Well, Lizzie Anderson! seventeen… the baby hard to find a father for… What will the good Father in Heav… to the local judge if he do not so… A little two-pointed smile and—pou…
The rose is obsolete but each petal ends in an edge, the double facet cementing the grooved columns of air ——The edge
All the complicated details of the attiring and the disattiring are completed! A liquid moon moves gently among
Leaves are graygreen, the glass broken, bright green.
a trouble archaically fettered to produce E Pluribus Unum an island
When I am alone I am happy. The air is cool. The sky is flecked and splashed and wound with color. The crimson phalloi of the sassafras leaves
The crowd at the ball game is moved uniformly by a spirit of uselessness which delights them— all the exciting detail