#Americans #Modernism
You Communists and Republicans! all you Germans and Frenchmen! you corpses and quickeners! The stars are about to melt and fall on you in tears.
You sullen pig of a man you force me into the mud with your stinking ash-cart! Brother! —if we were rich
Sooner or later we must come to the end of striving to re-establish the image the image of
Summer! the painting is organized about a young reaper enjoying his noonday rest
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...
SOFT as the bed in the earth Where a stone has lain— So soft, so smooth and so cool, Spring closes me in With her arms and her hands.
Her body is not so white as anemone petals nor so smooth—nor so remote a thing. It is a field of the wild carrot taking thefield by force; the grass
It is a small plant delicately branched and tapering conically to a point, each branch and the peak a wire for
My shoes as I lean unlacing them stand out upon flat worsted flowers under my feet.
And yet one arrives somehow, finds himself loosening the hooks… her dress in a strange bedroom— feels the autumn
You know there is not much that I desire, a few chrysanthemum… half lying on the grass, yellow and brown and white, the talk of a few people, the trees,
Of asphodel, that greeny flower, like a buttercup upon its branching stem– save that it’s green and wooden– I come, my sweet,
She sits with tears on her cheek her cheek on her hand
Gagarin says, in ecstasy, he could have gone on forever he floated at and sang
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