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William Carlos Williams

Sour Grapes / A Book of Poems

39 printed pages
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  • annkaragwahas quotedlast year
    Again I reply to the triple winds

    running chromatic fifths of derision

    outside my window:

    You will not succeed. I am

    bound more to my sentences

    the more you batter at me

    to follow you.

    as before, fingers perfectly

    its derisive music.
  • HThas quoted2 years ago
    We are alone in this terror, alone,

    face to face on this road, you and I,

    wrapped by this flame!

    Let the polished plows stay idle,

    their gloss already on the black soil.

    But that face of yours—!

    Answer me. I will clutch you. I

    will hug you, grip you. I will poke my face

    into your face and force you to see me.

    Take me in your arms, tell me the commonest

    thing that is in your mind to say,

    say anything. I will understand you—!

    It is the madness of the birch leaves opening

    cold, one by one.
  • HThas quoted2 years ago
    unlacing them

    stand out upon

    flat worsted flowers

    under my feet.

    Nimbly the shadows

    of my fingers play


    over shoes and flowers.

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