Cornhuskers. 1918.
#Americans
HOW much do you love me, a millio… Oh, a lot more than that, Oh, a l… And to-morrow maybe only half a bu… To-morrow maybe not even a half a… And is this your heart arithmetic?
A SWIRL in the air where your h… You walked under this tree, spoke… I might almost stand here and beli…
Every year Emily Dickinson sent o… the first arbutus bud in her garde… In a last will and testament Andr… remembered a friend with the gift… Washington’s pocket spy-glass.
GALOOTS, you hairy, hankering, Snousle on the bones you eat, chew… Grab off the bones in the paws of… If long-necks sit on their rumps a… Galoots fat with too much, galoots…
THERE are no handles upon a lang… Whereby men take hold of it And mark it with signs for its rem… It is a river, this language, Once in a thousand years
JOY... weaving two violet petals for a coat lapel... painting on a slab of night sky a Christ face... slipping new brass keys into rusty iron locks and shouldering till at last the door...
Six years I worked in a knitting… And then I married Jerry, the ice… He weighed 240 pounds, and could h… Who weighed 105 pounds, outward ea… He came home drunk and lay on me w…
THE WEST window is a panel of m… Five new lilacs nod to the wind an… The rain dry fence boards, the sta… (How long ago the knee drifts here…
WRITE your wishes on the door and come in. Stand outside in the pools of the harvest moon.
I AM a copper wire slung in the a… Slim against the sun I make not e… Night and day I keep singing—humm… It is love and war and money; it i… tears, the work and want,
THE child’s wonder At the old moon Comes back nightly. She points her finger To the far silent yellow thing
THE SEA rocks have a green moss… The pine rocks have red berries. I have memories of you. Speak to me of how you miss me. Tell me the hours go long and slow…
I SHALL never forget you, Broad… Your golden and calling lights. I’ll remember you long, Tall-walled river of rush and play… Hearts that know you hate you
There is a blue star, Janet, Fifteen years’ ride from us, If we ride a hundred miles an hour… There is a white star, Janet, Forty years’ ride from us,
Passing through huddled and ugly w… By doorways where women Looked from their hunger-deep eyes… Haunted with shadows of hunger-han… Out from the huddled and ugly wall…