#Americans #Modernism
The crowd at the ball game is moved uniformly by a spirit of uselessness which delights them— all the exciting detail
The pure products of America go crazy— mountain folk from Kentucky or the ribbed north end of Jersey
Trundled from the strangeness of the sea —— a kind of heaven —— Ladies and Gentlemen!
Here it is spring again and I still a young man! I am late at my singing. The sparrow with the black rain on… has been at his cadenzas for two w…
They tell me on the morrow I must… This winter eyrie for a southern f… And truth to tell I tremble with… At thought of such unheralded repr… E’er have I known December in a w…
I will teach you my towns… how to perform a funeral… for you have it over a tr… of artists— unless one should scour t…
If a man can say of his life or any moment of his life, There is nothing more to be desired! his st… becomes like that told in the famo… double sonnet—but without the
Among of green stiff old
To make two bold statements: There’s nothing sentimental about a machine, and: A poem is a small (or large) machine made out of words. When I say there’s nothing sentimental about a poe...
Of asphodel, that greeny flower, like a buttercup upon its branching stem– save that it’s green and wooden– I come, my sweet,
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.
An old willow with hollow branches slowly swayed his few high gright… and sang: Love is a young green willow shimmering at the bare wood’s edge…
munching a plum on the street a paper bag of them in her hand They taste good to her They taste good
Each time it rings I think it is for me but it is not for me nor for anyone it merely
The rose is obsolete but each petal ends in an edge, the double facet cementing the grooved columns of air ——The edge