#AmericanWriters #Couplet #FreeVerse
The murderer’s little daughter who is barely ten years old jerks her shoulders right and left so as to catch a glimpse of me
Here it is spring again and I still a young man! I am late at my singing. The sparrow with the black rain on… has been at his cadenzas for two w…
I lie here thinking of you:—— the stain of love is upon the world! Yellow, yellow, yellow it eats into the leaves,
The May sun—whom all things imitate— that glues small leaves to the wooden trees shone from the sky
I bought a dish mop— having no daughter— for they had twisted fine ribbons of shining copper about white twine
I gotta buy me a new girdle. (I’ll buy you one) O.K.
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...
The crowd at the ball game is moved uniformly by a spirit of uselessness which delights them— all the exciting detail
Again I reply to the triple winds running chromatic fifths of derisi… outside my window: Play louder. You will not succeed. I am
THE ARCHER is wake! The Swan is flying! Gold against blue An Arrow is lying. There is hunting in heaven—
Her body is not so white as anemone petals nor so smooth ——nor so remote a thing. It is a field of the wild carrot taking the field by force; the grass
O’eh’lee! La’la! Donna! Donna! Blue is the sky of Palermo; Blue is the little bay; And dost thou remember the orange…
A rumpled sheet Of brown paper About the length And apparent bulk Of a man was
The little sparrows hop ingenuously about the pavement quarreling with sharp voices
If a man can say of his life or any moment of his life, There is nothing more to be desired! his st… becomes like that told in the famo… double sonnet—but without the