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...

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.

I gotta buy me a new girdle. (I’ll buy you one) O.K.

a trouble archaically fettered to produce E Pluribus Unum an island

Take it out in vile whisky, take i… in lifting your skirts to show you… crotches; it is this that is inten… You are it. Your pleas will alway… You too will always go up with the…

A rumpled sheet Of brown paper About the length And apparent bulk Of a man was

Gagarin says, in ecstasy, he could have gone on forever he floated at and sang

Let the snake wait under his weed and the writing be of words, slow and quick, sharp to strike, quiet to wait,

Oh strong—ridged and deeply hollow… nose of mine! what will you not be… What tactless asses we are, you an… always indiscriminate, always unas… and now it is the souring flowers…

WHERE shall I find you— You, my grotesque fellows That I seek everywhere To make up my band? None, not one

Summer! the painting is organized about a young reaper enjoying his noonday rest

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

Why do I write today? The beauty of the terrible faces of our nonentites stirs me to it:

My shoes as I lean unlacing them stand out upon flat worsted flowers under my feet.