#Americans #Modernism
First he said: It is the woman in us That makes us write– Let us acknowledge it– Men would be silent.
A big young bareheaded woman in an apron Her hair slicked back standing on the street One stockinged foot toeing
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
I stopped the car to let the children down where the streets end in the sun at the marsh edge
so much depends upon a red wheel barrow glazed with rain
unless there is a new mind there cannot be a new line
Trundled from the strangeness of the sea —— a kind of heaven —— Ladies and Gentlemen!
I’ve fond anticipation of a day O’erfilled with pure diversion pre… For I must read a lady poesy The while we glide by many a leafy… Hid deep in rushes, where at rando…
The coroner’s merry little childre… Have such twinkling brown eyes. Their father is not of gay men And their mother jocular in no wis… Yet the coroner’s merry little chi…
It’s all in the sound. A song. Seldom a song. It should be a song—made of particulars, wasps,
Snow falls: years of anger following hours that float idly down — the blizzard drifts its weight
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…
In this world of as fine a pair of breasts as ever I saw the fountain in Madison Square
The green-blue ground is ruled with silver lines to say the sun is shining And on this moral sea of grass or dreams lie flowers
By the road to the contagious hosp… under the surge of the blue mottled clouds driven from the northeast—a cold wind. Beyond, th… waste of broad, muddy fields
