The living quality of the man’s mind stands out and its covert assertions for art, art, art!

You sullen pig of a man you force me into the mud with your stinking ash-cart! Brother! —if we were rich

I have eaten the plums that were in the icebox and which

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.

By the road to the contagious hosp… under the surge of the blue mottled clouds driven from the northeast—a cold wind. Beyond, the waste of broad, muddy fields

The rose is obsolete but each petal ends in an edge, the double facet cementing the grooved columns of air ——The edge

It is a willow when summer is over… a willow by the river from which no leaf has fallen nor bitten by the sun turned orange or crimson.

the back wings of the hospital where nothing will grow lie

My wife’s new pink slippers have gay pompons. There is not a spot or a stain on their satin toes or their sides… All night they lie together

The over-all picture is winter icy mountains in the background the return from the hunt it is toward evening from the left

There were some dirty plates and a glass of milk beside her on a small table near the rank, disheveled bed— Wrinkled and nearly blind

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 the field by force; the grass

Subtle, clever brain, wiser than… by what devious means do you contr… to remain idle? Teach me, O maste…