THE bronze General Grant riding… Park Shrivels in the sun by day when th… by in long processions going somew… for dinner and matinees and buying…

OF my city the worst that men wil… You took little children away from… And the glimmers that played in th… And the reckless rain; you put the… To work, broken and smothered, for…

THE SUMMER shirt sale of a downtown haberdasher is glorified in a show-window slang: everybody understands the language: red dots, yellow circles, blue anchors, and dove-brown hooks, th...

I AM The Great White Way of the… When you ask what is my desire, I… “Girls fresh as country wild flowe… With young faces tired of the cows… Eager in their eyes as the dawn to…

PAPA JOFFRE, the shoulders of him wide as the land of France. We look on the shoulders filling the stage of the Chicago Auditorium. A fat mayor has spoken much English and the mud o...

GIVE me hunger, O you gods that sit and give The world its orders. Give me hunger, pain and want, Shut me out with shame and failure

MY head knocks against the stars. My feet are on the hilltops. My finger-tips are in the valleys… universal life. Down in the sounding foam of prima…

DO you know how the dream looms?… Summer when the lungs of the earth… And another long breath for the si… So I shall look for you in the li… In the listening tops of the hicko…

I asked the mayor of Gary about the 12-hour day and the 7-day week. And the mayor of Gary answered more workmen steal time on the job in Gary than any other place in the United States. ...

I SHALL foot it Down the roadway in the dusk, Where shapes of hunger wander And the fugitives of pain go by. I shall foot it

FIVE circus clowns dying this year, morning newspapers told their lives, how each one horizontal in a last gesture of hands arranged by an undertaker, shook thousands into convulsions o...

Though I can whisper to you I am looking for an undertaker humming a lullaby and throwing his feet in a swift and mystic buck-and-wing, now you see it and now you don’t. Fish to swim a ...

I WROTE a poem on the mist And a woman asked me what I meant… I had thought till then only of th… how pearl and gray of it mix and r… And change the drab shanties with…