#AmericanWriters #Objectivist
You are my friend— you bring me peaches and the high bush cranberry you carry my fishpole
Nothing worth noting except an Andromeda with quadrangular shoots— the boots of the people
My wife is ill! And I sit waiting for a quorum Fast ride
What horror to awake at night and in the dimness see the light. Time is white mosquitoes bite I’ve spent my life on nothing.
Grandfather advised me: Learn a trade I learned to sit at desk
Feign a great calm; all gay transport soon ends. Chant: who knows— flight’s end or flight’s beginning for the resting gull?
He lived—childhood summers thru bare feet then years of money’s lack and heat beside the river—out of flood
In the great snowfall before the b… colored yule tree lights windows, the only glow for contemp… along this road I worked the print shop
Mr. Van Ess bought 14 washcloths? Fourteen washrags, Ed Van Ess? Must be going to give em to the church, I guess. He drinks, you know. The day we m…
I rose from marsh mud, algae, equisetum, willows, sweet green, noisy birds and frogs to see her wed in the rich
I married in the world’s black night for warmth if not repose. At the close—
My mother saw the green tree toad on the window sill her first one since she was young. We saw it breathe
The chemist creates the brazen approximation: Life Thy will be done
Popcorn—can cover screwed to the wall over a hole so the cold can’t mouse in
The wild and wavy event now chintz at the window was revolution . . . Adams to Miss Abigail Smith: