#AmericanWriters
Gagarin says, in ecstasy, he could have gone on forever he floated ate and sang
My shoes as I lean unlacing them stand out upon flat worsted flowers under my feet.
Why do I write today? The beauty of the terrible faces of our nonentites stirs me to it:
When the snow falls the flakes spi… that concerns them most intimately two and two to make a dance the mind dances with itself, taking you by the hand,
If when my wife is sleeping and the baby and Kathleen are sleeping and the sun is a flame-white disc in silken mists
This horrible but superb painting the parable of the blind without a red in the composition shows a group of beggars leading
These are the desolate, dark weeks when nature in its barrenness equals the stupidity of man. The year plunges into night
This is a slight stiff dance to a waking baby whose arms have been lying curled back above his head upon the pillow, making a flower—the eyes closed. Dead to the world! Waking is a...
In Brueghel’s great picture, The… the dancers go round, they go roun… around, the squeal and the blare a… tweedle of bagpipes, a bugle and f… tipping their bellies (round as th…
I bought a dish mop— having no daughter— for they had twisted fine ribbons of shining copper about white twine
Summer! the painting is organized about a young reaper enjoying his noonday rest
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
Paterson lies in the valley under… its spent waters forming the outli… lies on his right side, head near… of the waters filling his dreams!… his dreams walk about the city whe…
Upon the table in their bowl in violent disarray of yellow sprays, green spikes of leaves, red pointed petals and curled heads of blue