William Carlos Williams - Paterson (1946)

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My surface is myself. Under which to witness, youth is buried. Roots? Everybody has roots.

William Carlos Williams

Minds like beds always made up,
(more stony than a shore)
unwilling or unable.

William Carlos Williams

You lethargic, waiting upon me, waiting for the fire and I attendant upon you, shaken by your beauty Shaken by your beauty Shaken.

William Carlos Williams

Then back to the party!
and they maled and femaled you jealously Beautiful Thing as if to discover whence and
by what miracle there should escape, what?

William Carlos Williams

Paterson lies in the valley under the Passaic Falls
its spent waters forming the outline of his back. He
lies on his right side, head near the thunder
of the waters filling his dreams.

William Carlos Williams