Poem by Frank O'Hara I watched an armory combing its bronze bricks and the sky there where glistening rails of milk. Whe...

  à la folie If there was a god Who could make a world in seven How many thousands of days have I sat not creating fire? No, I ...

alfred eisenstaedt The night he fed me oysters and I thought maybe this is love by Taylor Roberts The ni...

Oh little voices of the throats of men From the unpublished works of T.S.Eliot Oh little voices of the throats of men Tha...

 Nos petites étoiles Antoine de Saint-Exupéry  (excerpts) “To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is j...

alfred eisenstaedt How to Get There by Frank O’Hara White the October air, no snow, easy to breathe beneath the sky, lies, ...