“Lacquer Prints: Paper Fishes” by Amy Lowell

"Lacquer Prints: Paper Fishes"

The paper carp,

At the end of its long bamboo pole,

Takes the wind into its mouth

And emtis it at its tail.

So is man,

Forever swalling the wind.


Amy Lowell's poem "Paper Fishes" is part of the "Laquer Prints" series published in the 1917 Some Imagist Poets anthology. Follow the links below to read the poem in a digitized version of this publication:


The Modernist Journals Project

Project Gutenberg

“The Exile” by Arnold James

The Exile

I am kept with walls of iron from the place

Where once the beechen shadow-trelissed lane

Held visions of thy presence, and I pace

The outer dust in poverty and pain.


[ . . . ]

Arnold James' poem "The Exile" was published in 1918 in the third "cycle" of the Wheels anthologies. To read this poem in full in a digitized version of this publication follow the links below:


The Modernist Journals Project

“Art” by Helen Hoyt


At last we let each other go,

And I left you:

Left the demand and the desire of you,

And all our windings in and out and



[ . . . ]


Helen Hoyt's poem "Art" was published in the 1917 Others anthology. To read this poem in full in a digitized version of this publication, follow the links below:



“Miss Thompson Goes Shopping” by Martin Armstrong

Miss Thompson Goes Shopping

In her lone cottage on the downs,
With winds and blizzards and great crowns
Of shining cloud, with wheeling plover
And short grass sweet with the small white clover,
Miss Thompson lived, correct and meek,
A lonely spinster, and every week
On market-day she used to go
Into the little town below,
Tucked in the great downs' hollow bowl
Like pebbles gathered in a shoal.

So, having washed her plates and cup
And banked the kitchen-fire up,
Miss Thompson slipped upstairs and dressed,
Put on her black (her second best),
The bonnet trimmed with rusty plush,
Peeped in the glass with simpering blush,
From camphor-smelling cupboard took
Her thicker jacket off the hook
Because the day might turn to cold.
Then, ready, slipped downstairs and rolled
The hearthrug back; then searched about,
Found her basket, ventured out,
Snecked the door and paused to lock it
And plunge the key in some deep pocket.
Then as she tripped demurely down
The steep descent, the little town
Spread wider till its sprawling street
Enclosed her and her footfalls beat
On the hard stone pavement, and she felt
Those throbbing ecstasies that melt
Through heart and mind, as, happy, free
Her small, prim personality
Merged into the seething strife
Of auction-marts and city life.


[ . . . ]


Martin Armstrong's poem "Miss Thompson Goes Shopping" was published in Georgian Poetry, 1920-1922. To read this poem in full in a digitized version of this publication, follow the link below: