#AmericanWriters
THEY put up big wooden gods. Then they burned the big wooden go… And put up brass gods and Changing their minds suddenly Knocked down the brass gods and pu…
HUNTINGTON sleeps in a house… Huntington dreams of railroads he… Huntington dreams of ten thousand… Blithery sleeps in a house six fee… Blithery dreams of rails and ties…
THE RIVER is gold under a suns… It is a molten gold someone pours… A woman mixing a wedding cake of b… Knows what the sunset is pouring o… The river twists in a letter S.
I SAW a mouth jeering. A smile o… A fist hit the mouth: knuckles of… The fist hit the mouth over and ov… And I saw the more the fist pound…
THE child’s wonder At the old moon Comes back nightly. She points her finger To the far silent yellow thing
She sits in the dust at the walls And makes cigars, Bending at the bench With fingers wage-anxious, Changing her sweat for the day’s p…
IN the cool of the night time The clocks pick off the points And the mainsprings loosen. They will need winding. One of these days…
WHY should I be wondering How you would look in black velvet… I who cannot remember whether it w… Or a whirr of red under your willo… Why do I wonder how you would loo…
They have painted and sung the women washing their hair, and the plaits and strands in the… and the golden combs and the combs of elephant tusks
NOTHING else in this song-only… Nothing else here-only your drinki… The pier runs into the lake straig… I stand on the pier and sing how… It is not your eyes, your face, I…
I WANTED a man’s face looking i… of life With something proud on his face,… of the jaws, No gulp of the throat leaves the f…
CLOSE-MOUTHED you sat five t… let out a whisper. Processions came by, marchers, ask… answered with grey eyes never blin… never talking.
The long beautiful night of the wi… The long night hanging down from t… Swinging, swaying, to the wind for… What is the humming, swishing thin… The rain, the wind, the swishing w…
THE CHILD Margaret begins to w… All the numbers come well-born, sh… Both 1 and 7 are straightforward,… The 6 and 9 salute as dancing sist… All the numbers are well-born, onl…
THERE was a late autumn cricket, And two smoldering mountain sunset… Under the valley roads of her eyes… There was a late autumn cricket, A hangover of summer song,