#Americans
(Washington, August, 1918)I HAV… I have seen this city in the night… And in the night and the moon I h… The float of the dome in the day a… The float of the dome in the night…
PASSERS-BY, Out of your many faces Flash memories to me Now at the day end Away from the sidewalks
She had a box with a million red bandanas for hi… She gave them to him one by one or by thousands, saying then she had not enough for…
Maybe he believes me, maybe not. Maybe I can marry him, maybe not. Maybe the wind on the prairie, The wind on the sea, maybe, Somebody, somewhere, maybe can tel…
ONCE when I saw a cripple Gasping slowly his last days with… Looking from hollow eyes, calling… Desperately gesturing with wasted… In the dark and dust of a house do…
And so to-day—they lay him away— the boy nobody knows the name of– the buck private—the unknown soldi… the doughboy who dug under and die… when they told him to– that’s him.
BEES and a honeycomb in the drie… And I ask no better a winding she… (over the earth and under the sun.… Let the bees go honey-hunting with… Let there be wings and yellow dust…
This town belongs to the Dead, to the Dead and to the Wilderness. Back of the clamps on a fireproof door they hold the papers of the Dead in a house here And when two living men fall ou...
Shine on, O moon of summer. Shine to the leaves of grass, cata… All silver under your rain to-nigh… An Italian boy is sending songs t… accordion.
SEVEN nations stood with their h… It was the first week in August,… I was listening, you were listenin… listening, And all of us heard a Voice murmu…
BODY of Jesus taken down from th… Carved in ivory by a lover of Chr… It is a child’s handful you are he… The breadth of a man’s finger, And this ivory loin cloth
STYLE—go ahead talking about sty… You can tell where a man gets his… as you can tell where Pavlowa got… or Ty Cobb his batting eye. Go on talking.
(For S. A.)TO write one book in… or five books in one year, to be the painter and the thing pa… ... where are we, bo? Wait-get his number.
THERE was a wild pigeon came oft… Gray wings that wrote their loops… There was a wild pigeon. There was a summer came year by ye… Rainy months and sunny and pigeons…
I waited today for a freight train… Cattle cars with steers butting th… bars, went by. And a half a dozen hoboes stood on… cars.