(1979)
#AmericanWriters
I am in need of music that would f… Over my fretful, feeling finger—ti… Over my bitter—tainted, trembling… With melody, deep, clear, and liqu… Oh, for the healing swaying, old a…
Still dark. The unknown bird sits on his usual… The little dog next door barks in… inquiringly, just once. Perhaps in his sleep, too, the bir…
At six o’clock we were waiting for… waiting for coffee and the charita… that was going to be served from a… —like kings of old, or like a mira… It was still dark. One foot of th…
In Worcester, Massachusetts, I went with Aunt Consuelo to keep her dentist’s appointment and sat and waited for her in the dentist’s waiting room.
We must admire her perfect aim, this huntress of the winter air whose level weapon needs no sight, if it were not that everywhere her game is sure, her shot is righ…
I caught a tremendous fish and held him beside the boat half out of water, with my hook fast in a corner of his mouth. He didn’t fight.
The brown enormous odor he lived b… was too close, with its breathing… for him to judge. The floor was ro… was plastered halfway up with glas… Light—lashed, self—righteous, abov…
The state with the prettiest name, the state that floats in brackish… held together by mangrave roots that bear while living oysters in… and when dead strew white swamps w…
This is the house of Bedlam. This is the man that lies in the house of Bedlam. This is the time of the tragic man
To the sagging wharf few ships could come. The population numbered two giants, an idiot, a dwarf, a gentle storekeeper
The great light cage has broken up… freeing, I think, about a million… whose wild ascending shadows will… and all the wires come falling dow… No cage, no frightening birds; the…
My grandfather said to me as we sat on the wagon seat, “Be sure to remember to always speak to everyone you meet.” We met a stranger on foot.
In the cold, cold parlor my mother laid out Arthur beneath the chromographs: Edward, Prince of Wales, with Princess Alexandra,
There are too many waterfalls here… hurry too rapidly down to the sea, and the pressure of so many clouds… makes them spill over the sides in… turning to waterfalls under our ve…
The tumult in the heart keeps asking questions. And then it stops and undertakes t… in the same tone of voice. No one could tell the difference.