#Americans #Modernism
Your thighs are appletrees whose blossoms touch the sky. Which sky? The sky where Watteau hung a lady’s slipper. Your knees
Disciplined by the artist to go round and round in holiday gear a riotously gay rabble of
A big young bareheaded woman in an apron Her hair slicked back standing on the street One stockinged foot toeing
I stopped the car to let the children down where the streets end in the sun at the marsh edge
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.
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.
Warm sun, quiet air an old man sits in the doorway of a broken house— boards for windows
Beloved you are Caviar of Caviar Of all I love you best O my Japanese bird nest No herring from Norway
One leaves his leaves at home beomg a mullen and sends up a ligh… to peer from: I will have my way, yellow—A mast with a lantern, ten fifty, a hundred, smaller and smal…
When trouble comes your soul to tr… You love the friend who just “stan… Perhaps there’s nothing he can do’ The thing is strictly up to you; For there are troubles all your ow…
Constantly near you, I never in m… sixty-four years knew you so well… or half so well. We talked. you we… so lucid, so disengaged from all e… of place and time. We talked of ou…
a burst of iris so that come down for breakfast we searched through the rooms for
By constantly tormenting them with reminders of the lice in their children’s hair, the School Physician first brought their hatred down on him.
Sorrow is my own yard where the new grass flames as it has flamed often before but not with the cold fire
This particular thing, whether it be four pinches of four divers white powders cleverly compounded to cure surely, safely, pleasantly a painful twitching of the eyelids or say a pe...