#Americans
FELIKSOWA has gone again from… She and her husband took with them… She went like a swine, because she… That is where she ought to live, w… She was something of an ape before…
THE SEA at its worst drives a w… The same sea sometimes so easy and… So you were there when the white f… And the salt spatter and the rack… You were done fingering these, and…
TWO fishes swimming in the sea, Two birds flying in the air, Two chisels on an anvil-maybe. Beaten, hammered, laughing blue st… Sure I would rather be a chisel w…
The rear axles hold the kick of tw… It is in the records of the patent… The farm boy says hello to you ins… A bucket of oil and a can of greas… Rain proof and fool proof they sta…
She held herself a deep pool for h… And the shadows crying for him He gathered himself in many dark w… And the shadows crying for her They took each other in shadow mee…
MRS. GABRIELLE GIOVANNI… every morning at nine o’clock With kindling wood piled on top of… looking straight ahead to find the… Her daughter-in-law, Mrs. Pietro…
HATS, where do you belong? what is under you? On the rim of a skyscraper’s foreh… I looked down and saw: hats: fifty… Swarming with a noise of bees and…
THERE are places I go when I am… One is a marsh pool where I used… with a long-ear hound-dog. One is a wild crabapple tree; I w… a moonlight night with a girl.
When country fiddlers held a conve… Danville, the big money went to a… artist who played Turkey in the S… variations. They asked him the name of the pie…
I AM singing to you Soft as a man with a dead child sp… Hard as a man in handcuffs, Held where he cannot move: Under the sun
FOR the gladness here where the s… evening on the weeds at the river, Our prayer of thanks. For the laughter of children who t… bareheaded in the summer grass,
HOKUSAI’S portrait of himself Tells what his hat was like And his arms and legs. The only f… Are a river and a mountain And two laughing farmers.
I DRANK musty ale at the Illino… the millionaire manufacturer of Gr… one night And his face had the shining light… he spoke of a beautiful daughter,…
OUT of the fire Came a man sunken To less than cinders, A tea-cup of ashes or so. And I,
OVER the dead line we have calle… To come across with a word to us, Some beaten whisper of what happen… Where you are over the dead line Deaf to our calls and voiceless.