#AmericanWriters
beauty is a shell from the sea where she rules triumphant till love has had its way with her scallops and
The crowd at the ball game is moved uniformly by a spirit of uselessness which delights them— all the exciting detail
I gotta buy me a new girdle. (I’ll buy you one) O.K.
This is a schoolyard crowded with children of all ages near a village on a small stream
I have had my dream—like others— and it has come to nothing, so tha… I remain now carelessly with feet planted on the ground and look up at the sky—
unless there is a new mind there cannot be a new line
"Sweet land" at last! out of sea— the Venusremembering wavelets rippling with laughter—
The dayseye hugging the earth in August, ha! Spring is gone down in purple, weeds stand high in the corn, the rainbeaten furrow
THERE is a bird in the poplars— It is the sun! The leaves are little yellow fish Swimming in the river; The bird skims above them—
A middle-northern March, now as a… gusts from the South broken agains… but from under, as if a slow hand… it moves—not into April—into a sec… the old skin of wind-clear scales…
Oh strong—ridged and deeply hollow… nose of mine! what will you not be… What tactless asses we are, you an… always indiscriminate, always unas… and now it is the souring 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
The whole process is a lie, unless, crowned by excess, It break forcefully, one way or another,
The May sun—whom all things imitate— that glues small leaves to the wooden trees shone from the sky
The grass is very green, my friend… and tousled, like the head of —— your grandson, yes? And the mounta… the mountain we climbed twenty years since for the last