#AmericanWriters
What is this, behind this veil, is… It is shimmering, has it breasts,… I am sure it is unique, I am sure… When I am quiet at my cooking I f… ‘Is this the one I am too appear…
The yew’s black fingers wag: Cold clouds go over. So the deaf and dumb Signal the blind, and are ignored. I like black statements.
Worship this world of watercolor m… in glass pagodas hung with veils o… where diamonds jangle hymns within… and sap ascends the steeple of the… A saintly sparrow jargons madrigal…
I’m a riddle in nine syllables, An elephant, a ponderous house, A melon strolling on two tendrils. O red fruit, ivory, fine timbers! This loaf’s big with its yeasty ri…
Hearing a white saint rave About a quintessential beauty Visible only to the paragon heart, I tried my sight on an apple-tree That for eccentric knob and wart
Through portico of my elegant hous… With your wild furies, disturbing… And the fabulous lutes and peacock… Of all decorum which holds the whi… Now, rich order of walls is fallen…
In sunless air, under pines Green to the point of blackness, s… Founding father set these lobed, w… To loom in the leaf-filtered gloom Black as the charred knuckle-bones
“I shut my eyes and all the world… I lift my lids and all is born aga… (I think I made you up inside my… The stars go waltzing out in blue… And arbitrary blackness gallops in…
In sunless air, under pines Green to the point of blackness, s… Founding father set these lobed, w… To loom in the leaf—filtered gloom Black as the charred knuckle—bones
How far is it? How far is it now? The gigantic gorilla interior Of the wheels move, they appall me… The terrible brains
We came over the moor—top Through air streaming and green—li… Stone farms foundering in it, Valleys of grass altering In a light neither dawn
The abstracts hover like dull ange… Nothing so vulgar as a nose or an… Bossing the ethereal blanks of the… Their whiteness bears no relation… Snow, chalk or suchlike. They’re
The courage of the shut mouth, in… The line pink and quiet, a worm, b… There are black disks behind it, t… And the outrage of a sky, the line… The disks revolve, they ask to be…
On the stiff twig up there Hunches a wet black rook Arranging and rearranging its feat… I do not expect a miracle Or an accident