#Americans
IN western fields of corn and nor… They talk about me, a saloon with… The soft red lights, the long curv… The leather seats and dim corners, Tall brass spittoons, a nigger cut…
JESUS emptied the devils of one man into forty hogs and the hogs took the edge of a high rock and dropped off and down into the sea: a mob. The sheep on the hills of Australia, blunde...
IF we were such and so, the same… maybe we too would be slingers and… tumbling half over in the water mi… tumbling half over at the horse he… tumbling our purple numbers.
AFTER the last red sunset glimme… Black on the line of a low hill ri… Formed into moving shadows, I saw A plowboy and two horses lined aga… Plowing in the dusk the last furro…
I SALUTED a nobody. I saw him in a looking-glass. He smiled—so did I. He crumpled the skin on his forehe… frowning—so did I.
THE LAWYERS, Bob, know too mu… They are chums of the books of old… They know it all, what a dead hand… A stiff dead hand and its knuckles… The bones of the fingers a thin wh…
CLOSE-MOUTHED you sat five t… let out a whisper. Processions came by, marchers, ask… answered with grey eyes never blin… never talking.
IN the Shenandoah Valley, one rider gray and one rider blue, and the sun on the riders wondering. Piled in the Shenandoah, riders blue and riders gray, piled with shovels, one and ano...
EMILY DICKINSON: You gave us the bumble bee who has… The everlasting traveler among the… And how God plays around a back y… STEVIE CRANE:
ARMOUR AVENUE was the name o… Scrap iron, rags and bottles fill… The segregated district, the Tend…
IF the oriole calls like last yea… when the south wind sings in the o… if the leaves climb and climb on a… saying over a song learnt from the… if the crickets send up the same o…
I will read ashes for you, if you… I will look on the fire and tell y… And out of the red and black tongu… I will tell how fire comes And how fire runs far as the sea.
THE HIGH horses of the sea brok… On the walls that held and counted… The wind lasted. Two landbirds looked on and the no… Looked on and the wind poured cups…
In the loam we sleep, In the cool moist loam, To the lull of years that pass And the break of stars, From the loam, then,
Into the blue river hills The red sun runners go And the long sand changes And to-day is a goner And to-day is not worth haggling o…
