#AmericanWriters
Mr T. bareheaded in a soiled undershirt his hair standing out on all sides
Why pretend to remember the weather two years back? Why not? Listen close then repeat after others what they have just said and win a reputation for vivacity. Oh feed upon petals o...
My wife’s new pink slippers have gay pompons. There is not a spot or a stain on their satin toes or their sides… All night they lie together
Trundled from the strangeness of the sea —— a kind of heaven —— Ladies and Gentlemen!
Leaves are graygreen, the glass broken, bright green.
munching a plum on the street a paper bag of them in her hand They taste good to her They taste good
Upon the table in their bowl in violent disarray of yellow sprays, green spikes of leaves, red pointed petals and curled heads of blue
Take it out in vile whisky, take i… in lifting your skirts to show you… crotches; it is this that is inten… You are it. Your pleas will alway… You too will always go up with the…
WHERE shall I find you— You, my grotesque fellows That I seek everywhere To make up my band? None, not one
Rather notice, mon cher, that the moon is titled above the point of the steeple than that its color
beauty is a shell from the sea where she rules triumphant till love has had its way with her scallops and
Disciplined by the artist to go round and round in holiday gear a riotously gay rabble of
Gagarin says, in ecstasy, he could have gone on forever he floated ate and sang
A three-day-long rain from the eas… an terminable talking, talking of no consequence—patter, patter,… Hand in hand little winds blow the thin streams aslant.
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…