#AmericanWriters
Gagarin says, in ecstasy, he could have gone on forever he floated at and sang
The crowd at the ball game is moved uniformly by a spirit of uselessness which delights them— all the exciting detail
Each time it rings I think it is for me but it is not for me nor for anyone it merely
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
THE ARCHER is wake! The Swan is flying! Gold against blue An Arrow is lying. There is hunting in heaven—
Why go further? One might conceivably rectify the rhythm, study all out and arrive at the perfection of a tiger lily or a china doorknob. One might lift all out of the ruck, be a w...
The rose is obsolete but each petal ends in an edge, the double facet cementing the grooved columns of air ——The edge
Vast and grey, the sky is a simulacrum to all but him whose days are vast and grey and— In the tall, dried grasses
It is still warm enough to slip from the weeds into the lake’s edge, your clothes blushing in the grass and three small boys grinning behind the derelict hearth’s side. But summer...
This is a schoolyard crowded with children of all ages near a village on a small stream
beauty is a shell from the sea where she rules triumphant till love has had its way with her scallops and
Mr T. bareheaded in a soiled undershirt his hair standing out on all sides
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.
From the Nativity which I have already celebrated the Babe in its Mother’s arms the Wise Men in their stolen splendor
contend in a sea which the land pa… shielding them from the too—heavy… of an ungoverned ocean which when… tortures the biggest hulls, the be… to pit against its beatings, and s…