a trouble archaically fettered to produce E Pluribus Unum an island

I bought a dish mop— having no daughter— for they had twisted fine ribbons of shining copper about white twine

This is a schoolyard crowded with children of all ages near a village on a small stream

ALL those treasures that lie in t… Mightier than the room of the star… All those treasures—I hold them i… Against the sides and the lid and… Crying that there is no sun come a…

In this world of as fine a pair of breasts as ever I saw the fountain in Madison Square

Leaves are graygreen, the glass broken, bright green.

Nude bodies like peeled logs sometimes give off a sweetest odor, man and woman under the trees in full excess matching the cushion of

It’s all in the sound. A song. Seldom a song. It should be a song—made of particulars, wasps,

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

I gotta buy me a new girdle. (I’ll buy you one) O.K.

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,…

If you had come away with me into another state we had been quiet together. But there the sun coming up out of the nothing beyond the lake…

Flowers through the window lavender and yellow changed by white curtains— Smell of cleanliness— Sunshine of late afternoon—