The Desolate Field (William Carlos Williams Poems)
Vast and grey, the sky is a simulacrum to all but him whose days are vast and grey and- In ...
Vast and grey, the sky is a simulacrum to all but him whose days are vast and grey and- In ...
The birches are mad with green points the wood's edge is burning with their green, burning, seething-No, no, no. The ...
Sorrow is my own yard where the new grass flames as it has flamed often before but not with the ...
The pure products of America go crazy- mountain folk from Kentucky or the ribbed north end of Jersey with its ...
It is cold. The white moon is up among her scattered stars- like the bare thighs of the Police Sergeant's ...
Upon the table in their bowl in violent disarray of yellow sprays, green spikes of leaves, red pointed petals and ...
There they were stuck dog and bitch halving the compass Then when with his yip they parted oh how frolicsome ...
It is a willow when summer is over, a willow by the river from which no leaf has fallen nor ...
I think I have never been so exalted As I am now by you, O frost bitten blossoms, That are ...
Each time it rings I think it is for me but it is not for me nor for anyone it ...
A rumpled sheet Of brown paper About the length And apparent bulk Of a man was Rolling with the Wind ...
Tracks of rain and light linger in the spongy greens of a nature whose flickering mountain-bulging nearer, ebbing back into ...
Go to sleep-though of course you will not- to tideless waves thundering slantwise against strong embankments, rattle and swish of ...
I bought a dishmop- having no daughter- for they had twisted fine ribbons of shining copper about white twine and ...
This, with a face like a mashed blood orange that suddenly would get eyes and look up and scream War! ...
Your thighs are appletrees whose blossoms touch the sky. Which sky? The sky where Watteau hung a lady's slipper. Your ...
Of asphodel, that greeny flower, like a buttercup upon its branching stem- save that it's green and wooden- I come, ...
Brother Paul! look! -but he rushes to a different window. The moon! I heard shrieks and thought: What's that? That's ...
Among the rain and lights I saw the figure 5 in gold on a red firetruck moving tense unheeded to ...
It's all in the sound. A song. Seldom a song. It should be a song-made of particulars, wasps, a gentian-something ...
You know there is not much that I desire, a few chrysanthemums half lying on the grass, yellow and brown ...
I have eaten the plums that were in the icebox and which you were probably saving for breakfast Forgive me ...
The crowd at the ball game is moved uniformly by a spirit of uselessness which delights them- all the exciting ...
I will teach you my townspeople how to perform a funeral for you have it over a troop of artists- ...
Snow falls: years of anger following hours that float idly down- the blizzard drifts its weight deeper and deeper for ...
so much depends upon a red wheel barrow glazed with rain water beside the white chickens. (William Carlos Williams)
They call me and I go. It is a frozen road past midnight, a dust of snow caught in the ...
The murderer's little daughter who is barely ten years old jerks her shoulders right and left so as to catch ...
Oh, black Persian cat! Was not your life already cursed with offspring? We took you for rest to that old ...
As the cat climbed over the top of the jamcloset first the right forefoot carefully then the hind stepped down ...
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