#AmericanWriters
Gagarin says, in ecstasy, he could have gone on forever he floated at and sang
Trundled from the strangeness of the sea —— a kind of heaven —— Ladies and Gentlemen!
The half-stripped trees struck by a wind together, bending all, the leaves flutter drily and refuse to let go
I have discovered that most of the beauties of travel are due to the strange hours we keep to see t… the domes of the Church of the Paulist Fathers in Weehawken
Disciplined by the artist to go round and round in holiday gear a riotously gay rabble of
The brutal Lord of All will rip us from each other—leave the one to suffer here alone. No need belief in god or hell to postulate that much. The dance: hands touching, leaves touch...
Let the snake wait under his weed and the writing be of words, slow and quick, sharp to strike, quiet to wait,
Constantly near you, I never in m… sixty-four years knew you so well… or half so well. We talked. you we… so lucid, so disengaged from all e… of place and time. We talked of ou…
Gagarin says, in ecstasy, he could have gone on forever he floated ate and sang
I bought a dish mop— having no daughter— for they had twisted fine ribbons of shining copper about white twine
The whole process is a lie, unless, crowned by excess, It break forcefully, one way or another,
I’ve fond anticipation of a day O’erfilled with pure diversion pre… For I must read a lady poesy The while we glide by many a leafy… Hid deep in rushes, where at rando…
Tho’ I’m no Catholic I listen hard when the bells in the yellow—brick tower of their new church ring down the leaves
Mr T. bareheaded in a soiled undershirt his hair standing out on all sides
Little round moon up there—wait awhile—do not walk so quickly. I could sing you a song—: Wine clear the sky is and the stars no bigger than sparks! Wait for me and next winter we’ll bui...