#AmericanWriters
You say love is this, love is that… Poplar tassels, willow tendrils the wind and the rain comb, tinkle and drip, tinkle and drip— branches drifting apart. Hagh!
Among of green stiff old
Beloved you are Caviar of Caviar Of all I love you best O my Japanese bird nest No herring from Norway
By constantly tormenting them with reminders of the lice in their children’s hair, the School Physician first brought their hatred down on him.
These are the desolate, dark weeks when nature in its barrenness equals the stupidity of man. The year plunges into night
The birches are mad with green poi… the wood’s edge is burning with th… burning, seething—No, no, no. The birches are opening their leav… by one. Their delicate leaves unfo…
A day on the boulevards chosen out… student poverty! One best day out… Berket in high spirits—"Ha, orang… And he made to snatch an orange fr… Now so clever was the deception, s…
My wife’s new pink slippers have gay pompons. There is not a spot or a stain on their satin toes or their sides… All night they lie together
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…
Of asphodel, that greeny flower, like a buttercup upon its branching stem– save that it’s green and wooden– I come, my sweet,
You know there is not much that I desire, a few chrysanthemum… half lying on the grass, yellow and brown and white, the talk of a few people, the trees,
Yellow, yellow, yellow, yellow! It is not a color. It is summer! It is the wind on a willow, the lap of waves, the shadow
The little sparrows hop ingenuously about the pavement quarreling with sharp voices
I gotta buy me a new girdle. (I’ll buy you one) O.K.
In the flashes and black shadows of July the days, locked in each other’s a… seem still so that squirrels and colored bird…