You sullen pig of a man you force me into the mud with your stinking ash-cart! Brother! —if we were rich

Not because of his eyes, the eyes of a bird, but because he is beaked, birdlike, to do an injury, has the turtle attracted you.

My townspeople, beyond in the grea… are many with whom it were far mor… profitable for me to live than her… These whirr about me calling, call… and for my own part I answer them,…

Paterson lies in the valley under… its spent waters forming the outli… lies on his right side, head near… of the waters filling his dreams!… his dreams walk about the city whe…

As the cat climbed over the top of the jamcloset first the right

unless there is a new mind there cannot be a new line

There were some dirty plates and a glass of milk beside her on a small table near the rank, disheveled bed— Wrinkled and nearly blind

My shoes as I lean unlacing them stand out upon flat worsted flowers under my feet.

the back wings of the hospital where nothing will grow lie

A power-house in the shape of a red brick chair 90 feet high on the seat of which

WHERE shall I find you— You, my grotesque fellows That I seek everywhere To make up my band? None, not one

It is a willow when summer is over… a willow by the river from which no leaf has fallen nor bitten by the sun turned orange or crimson.

Summer! the painting is organized about a young reaper enjoying his noonday rest