#AmericanWriters
When over the flowery, sharp pastu… edge, unseen, the salt ocean lifts its form—chicory and daisies tied, released, seem hardly flower… but color and the movement—or the…
The whole process is a lie, unless, crowned by excess, It break forcefully, one way or another,
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…
And yet one arrives somehow, finds himself loosening the hooks… her dress in a strange bedroom— feels the autumn
You sullen pig of a man you force me into the mud with your stinking ash-cart! Brother! —if we were rich
I stopped the car to let the children down where the streets end in the sun at the marsh edge
SOFT as the bed in the earth Where a stone has lain— So soft, so smooth and so cool, Spring closes me in With her arms and her hands.
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!
The birches are mad with green poi… the wood’s edge is burning with th… burning, seething—No, no, no. The birches are opening their leav… by one. Their delicate leaves unfo…
As the cat climbed over the top of the jamcloset first the right
Gagarin says, in ecstasy, he could have gone on forever he floated at and sang
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…
Again I reply to the triple winds running chromatic fifths of derisi… outside my window: Play louder. You will not succeed. I am
It is still warm enough to slip from the weeds into the lake’s edge, your clothes blushing in the grass and three small boys grinning behind the derelict hearth’s side. But summer...