Trout for Breakfast (Raymond A. Foss Poem)
The smell of the brook trout percolated out from the tin foil, the butter and lemon joining the fresh catch, ...
The smell of the brook trout percolated out from the tin foil, the butter and lemon joining the fresh catch, ...
Of all the opry-houses then obtaining in the West The one which Milton Tootle owned was, by all odds, the ...
With big tin trumpet and little red drum, Marching like soldiers, the children come! It 's this way and that ...
There's a dear little home in Good-Children street - My heart turneth fondly to-day Where tinkle of tongues and patter ...
There once was a bird that lived up in a tree, And all he could whistle was "Fiddle-dee-dee" - A ...
Having a wheel and four legs of its own Has never availed the cumbersome grindstone To get it anywhere that ...
I let myself in at the kitchen door. "It's you," she said. "I can't get up. Forgive me Not answering ...
I'll tell you the story of Jonah, A really remarkable tale; A peaceful and humdrum existence he had Until one ...
Albert were what you'd call "thwarted". He had long had an ambition, which... Were to save up and go to ...
I Midwinter spring is its own season Sempiternal though sodden towards sundown, Suspended in time, between pole and tropic. When ...
After long drought, commotion in the sky; After dead silence, thunder. Then it comes, The rain. It slashes leaves, and ...
Because she could find no one else to paint a picture of the old family place where she and her ...
W'en daih's chillun in de house, Dey keep on a-gittin' tall; But de folks don' seem to see Dat dey's ...
As the sweet sweat of roses in a still, As that which from chafed musk-cats' pores doth trill, As the ...
It was the days of the slow roll, times when we dextrously dressed our hand-rolled cigarettes with a dearth of ...
Indeed. These jagged crevasses of the psyche are treacherous, gray. Extending two hundred plus days in every direction; an ominous ...
Just over the horizon a great machine of death is roaring and rearing. One can hear it always. Earthquake, starvation, ...
God made the wicked Grocer For a mystery and a sign, That men might shun the awful shops And go ...
A poet's cat, sedate and grave As poet well could wish to have, Was much addicted to inquire For nooks ...
Encase your legs in nylons, Bestride your hills with pylons O age without a soul; Away with gentle willows And ...
Observe, my child, this pretty scene, And note the air of pleasure keen With which the widow's orphan boy Toots ...
a novel by Richard Brautigan THE COVER FOR TROUT FISHING IN AMERICA The cover for Trout Fishing in America is ...
THE PUDDING MASTER OF STANLEY BASIN Tree, snow and rock beginnings, the mountain in back of the lake promised us ...
WITNESS FOR TROUT FISHING IN AMERICA PEACE In San Francisco around Easter time last year, they had a trout fishing ...
ANOTHER METHOD OF MAKING WALNUT CATSUP And this is a very small cookbook for Trout Fishing in America as if ...
Across the floor flits the mechanical toy, fit for a king of several centuries back. A little circus horse with ...
At four o'clock in the gun-metal blue dark we hear the first crow of the first cock just below the ...
The still explosions on the rocks, the lichens, grow by spreading, gray, concentric shocks. They have arranged to meet the ...
I The bitterness. the misery, the wretchedness of childhood Put me out of love with God. I can't believe in ...
In the burned house I am eating breakfast. You understand: there is no house, there is no breakfast, yet here ...
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