Cornhuskers. 1918.
#AmericanWriters
I HAVE been watching the war map… advertising in front of the newspa… Buttons—red and yellow buttons—blu… are shoved back and forth across t… A laughing young man, sunny with f…
THE single clenched fist lifted a… Or the open asking hand held out a… Choose: For we meet by one or the other.
A SWIRL in the air where your h… You walked under this tree, spoke… I might almost stand here and beli…
SHAKE back your hair, O red-hea… Let go your laughter and keep your… Somewhere is a man looking for a r… Around and around go ten thousand… I have seen them hunting, hunting.
A FOREFINGER of stone, dreame… It says: This way! this way! Four lions snore in stone at the c… They too are the dream of a sculpt… They too say: This way! this way!
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
NOW that a crimson rambler begins to crawl over the house of our two lives— Now that a red curve winds across the shingles—
The Balloons hang on wires in the… They spot their yellow and gold, t… Balloon face eaters sit by hundred… Poets, lawyers, ad men, mason cont… Here sit the heavy balloon face wo…
LET us go out of the fog, John,… Let us sit among the telegrams-cli… It is a fog night out and the umbr… Here the telegrams come-one king g… Let us go out in the fog, John, l…
LET me be monosyllabic to-day, O… Yesterday I loosed a snarl of wor… on a child. To-day, let me be monosyllabic … a… who wash sunlight in their fingers…
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...
WOMEN of night life amid the lig… Where the line of your full, round… Matches in gleam the glint of your… And the ring of your heart-deep la… It is much to be warm and sure of…
STROLLING along By the teeming docks, I watch the ships put out. Black ships that heave and lunge And move like mastodons
TWENTY men stand watching the m… Stabbing the sides of the ditch Where clay gleams yellow, Driving the blades of their shovel… Deeper and deeper for the new gas…
THE MILK drops on your chin, H… Must not interfere with the cranbe… Nor the sky winter blue of your ey… Let your mammy keep hands off the… This is a high holy spatter of whi…