#AmericanWriters
Moon of leaves, Moon of the falling leaves, To you I bring the slippers of the sun. That you may dance upon the
Why should I be subsevient to fat… Si peu de chose before a giant wor… Poor little ship with little sail… To catch the sun-breze at the harb… Why should I be a coal within the…
I think I understand you, Baudela… With all your strangeness and perv… You whose fierce hatred of dull wo… Led you to seek your macabre visio… Where shrouded night came creeping…
I never go to church to pray Among the crowded pews Nor kneel before a crucifix To hail the king of Jews I never say a prayer
I exchange eyes with the Mad Qu… the mirror crashes against my fa… and bursts into a thousand suns all over the city flags crackle… fog horns scream in the harbor
You’ve slipped from out your eveni… Before the polished lookingglass,… Unclasping frail corsage, while yo… Your blushing charms. Your waywar… Intrigue, as slowly you remove the…
My soul has suffered breaking on t… Flogging with lead, and felt the t… Of barbèd hooks and jagged points… Peine forte et dure, slow burning… Blinding and branding, stripping o…
what was the moment of coition lik… come Zariba let down your gates turn turtle all you captives of th… square suns walled in by darkness from the cry…
(Self-Portrait) Omens and Astrology. A desert flat and undisturbed, stupid and forlorn. Sunless. a caravan of failures. Pons Asinorum and the Feast of the Ass and revolt against standar...
The Sun! the Sun! a fish in the aquarium of sky or golden net to snare the butterf… of soul or else the hole
A sunfort flourished in my sunless… Beyond the Sun. Here in a tower a… The sunbirds of my lady’s eyes wer… Alas, poor targets for the sun-god… The Sun at Chartres seen through…
Venus is sleeping with Fire Because it is winter and cold With Echo (The sound of strange footsteps go… As they pass through the door)
I have invited our little seamstress to take her thread and needle and sew our two mouths together. I have asked the village blacksmith to forge golden chains to tie our ankles together...
What heavens opened and blazed, What sisters virtuous, What arrows sprang to mark, The trees so terrible and dark, What years, what hopes,
An Arab beats upon a kettle drum, And tuneless is the wailing of the… As on the sands a slavegirl execut… Her dance of wantonwild delirium; Her body swaying like a pendulum