#AmericanWriters
munching a plum on the street a paper bag of them in her hand They taste good to her They taste good
All the complicated details of the attiring and the disattiring are completed! A liquid moon moves gently among
Little round moon up there—wait awhile—do not walk so quickly. I could sing you a song—: Wine clear the sky is and the stars no bigger than sparks! Wait for me and next winter we’ll bui...
It’s a strange courage you give me ancient star: Shine alone in the sunrise toward which you lend no part!
Among of green stiff old
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...
The over-all picture is winter icy mountains in the background the return from the hunt it is toward evening from the left
When over the flowery, sharp pastu… edge, unseen, the salt ocean lifts its form—chicory and daisies tied, released, seem hardly flower… but color and the movement—or the…
My shoes as I lean unlacing them stand out upon flat worsted flowers under my feet.
This plot of ground facing the waters of this inlet is dedicated to the living presenc… Emily Dickinson Wellcome who was born in England; married;
I will teach you my towns… how to perform a funeral… for you have it over a tr… of artists— unless one should scour t…
I have discovered that most of the beauties of travel are due to the strange hours we keep to see t… the domes of the Church of the Paulist Fathers in Weehawken
Men with picked voices chant the n… of cities in a huge gallery: promi… that pull through descending stair… to a deep rumbling. The rubbing feet
I have eaten the plums that were in the icebox and which
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…
