Cornhuskers. 1918.
#Americans
BY day the skyscraper looms in th… has a soul. Prairie and valley, streets of the… it and they mingle among its twent… poured out again back to the stree…
The strong men keep coming on. They go down shot, hanged, sick, b… They live on, fighting, singing, l… The strong men... they keep coming… The strong mothers pulling them fr…
HIGH noon. White sun flashes on… asphalt. Drum of hoofs and whirr o… Women trapsing along in flimsy clo… play of sun-fire to their skin and… Inside the playhouse are movies fr…
THE GRAVE of Alexander Hamilt… The grave of Robert Fulton likewi… And in this yard stenogs, bundle b… An iron picket fence... and stream… ... easy is the sleep of Alexander…
WHAT cry of peach blossoms let loose on the air today I heard with my face thrown in the pink-white of it all? in the red whisper of it all?
AM I the river your white birds f… Are you the green valley my silver… The two of us a bowl of blue sky d… Who picked you out of the first great whirl of no…
THE child’s wonder At the old moon Comes back nightly. She points her finger To the far silent yellow thing
THIS is the song I rested with: The right shoulder of a strong man… The face of the rain that drizzled… The eyes of a child who slept whil… The petals of peony pink that flut…
STORMS have beaten on this poin… And ships gone to wreck here and the passers-by remember it with talk on the deck at night as they near it.
ROSES and gold For you today, And the flash of flying flags. I will have Ashes,
I WANDER down on Clinton stree… And listen to the voices of Itali… It is a cataract of coloratura And I could sleep to their musica…
BY day... tireless smokestacks...… By night... all lit up... fire-gol…
COME to me only with playthings… A picture of a singing woman with… Standing at a fence of hollyhocks,… Or an old man I remember sitting… Of days that never happened anywhe…
OUT of white lips a question: Sh… Out of white lips:—Shall they hav… Out of white lips:—Is the red in… Out of white lips a white pain mur…
FIRST I would like to write for you a poem to be shouted in the teeth of a strong wind. Next I would like to write one for you to sit on a hill and read down the river valley on a late ...