#Americans Modern
Twenty men crossing a bridge, Into a village, Are twenty men crossing twenty bri… Into twenty villages, Or one man
The house was quiet and the world… The reader became the book; and su… Was like the conscious being of th… The house was quiet and the world… The words were spoken as if there…
Granted, we die for good. Life, then, is largely a thing Of happens to like, not should. And that, too, granted, why Do I happen to like red bush,
There’s a little square in Paris, Waiting until we pass. They sit idly there, They sip the glass. There’s a cab-horse at the corner,
Call the roller of big cigars, The muscular one, and bid him whip In kitchen cups concupiscent curds… Let the wenches dawdle in such dre… As they are used to wear, and let…
Her terrace was the sand And the palms and the twilight. She made of the motions of her wri… The grandiose gestures Of her thought.
It is true that the rivers went no… Tugging at banks, until they seeme… Bland belly-sounds in somnolent tr… That the air was heavy with the br… The breath of turgid summer, and
At the earliest ending of winter, In March, a scrawny cry from outs… Seemed like a sound in his mind. He knew that he heard it, A bird’s cry at daylight or before…
As the immense dew of Florida Brings forth The big-finned palm And green vine angering for life, As the immense dew of Florida
I placed a jar in Tennessee, And round it was, upon a hill. It made the slovenly wilderness Surround that hill. The wilderness rose up to it,
Sister and mother and diviner love… And of the sisterhood of the livin… Most near, most clear, and of the… And of the fragrant mothers the mo… And queen, and of diviner love the…
Pour the unhappiness out From your too bitter heart, Which grieving will not sweeten. Poison grows in this dark. It is in the water of tears
Children picking up our bones Will never know that these were on… As quick as foxes on the hill; And that in autumn, when the grape… Made sharp air sharper by their sm…
Every time the bucks went clatteri… Over Oklahoma A firecat bristled in the way. Wherever they went, They went clattering,
Light the first light of evening,… In which we rest and, for small re… The world imagined is the ultimate… This is, therefore, the intensest… It is in that thought that we coll…