#AmericanWriters
Heaven’s worry, scurries to earth; twisted planning, what’s to block… At sight of good plan, they turn t… the sight of their planning gives me a pain.
While my hair was still cut straig… I played about the front gate, pul… You came by on bamboo stilts, play… You walked about my seat, playing… And we went on living in the villa…
“Tout aux tavernes et aux filles.” Suppose you screeve? or go cheap-j… Or fake the broads? or fig a nag? Or thimble-rig? or knap a yack? Or pitch a snide? or smash a rag?
“Lappo I leave behind and Dante t… Lo, I would sail the seas with th… Talk me no love talk, no bought-ch… Mine is the ship and thine the mer… All the blind earth knows not th’e…
How have I laboured? How have I not laboured To bring her soul to birth, To give these elements a name and… She is beautiful as the sunlight,…
O woe, woe, People are born and die, We also shall be dead pretty soon Therefore let us act as if we were dead already.
Or ever the knightly years were go… With the old world to the grave, I was a King in Babylon And you were a Christian Slave. I saw, I took, I cast you by,
For the seven lakes, and by no man… Rain; empty river; a voyage, Fire from frozen cloud, heavy rain… Under the cabin roof was one lante… The reeds are heavy; bent;
The rustling of the silk is discon… Dust drifts over the court-yard, There is no sound of foot-fall, an… Scurry into heaps and lie still, And she the rejoicer of the heart…
Palace in smoky light, Troy but a heap of smouldering bou… ANAXIFORMINGES! Aurunculei… Hear me. Cadmus of Golden Prow… The silver mirrors catch the brigh…
O my fellow sufferers, songs of my… A lot of asses praise you because… We, you, I! We are 'Red Bloods’! Imagine it, my fellow sufferers Our maleness lifts us out of the r…
M. Pom-POM allait en guerre Per vendere cannoni Mon beau grand frère Ne peut plus voir Per vendere cannoni.
WIND Scarce and thin, scarce and thin The government’s excuse, Never at all will they do Aught of the slightest use.
The scientists are in terror and the European mind stops Wynham Lewis chose blindness rather than have his mind stop. Night under wind mid garofani,
The sky-like limpid eyes, The circular infant’s face, The stiffness from spats to collar Never relaxing into grace; The heavy memories of Horeb, Sina…