Carl Sandburg

Halsted Street Car

COME you, cartoonists,
         Hang on a strap with me here
         At seven o’clock in the morning
         On a Halsted street car.
 
              Take your pencils
              And draw these faces.
 
Try with your pencils for these crooked faces,
That pig-sticker in one corner—his mouth—
That overall factory girl—her loose cheeks.
 
              Find for your pencils
              A way to mark your memory
              Of tired empty faces.
 
              After their night’s sleep,
              In the moist dawn
              And cool daybreak,
              Faces
              Tired of wishes,
              Empty of dreams.
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