Cornhuskers. 1918.
#Americans
OF my city the worst that men wil… You took little children away from… And the glimmers that played in th… And the reckless rain; you put the… To work, broken and smothered, for…
I AM the nigger. Singer of songs, Dancer. . . Softer than fluff of cotton. . . Harder than dark earth
PIETRO has twenty red and blue… They flutter and dance pulling Pi… A nickel apiece is what they sell… Wishing children tag Pietro’s hee… He sells out and goes the streets…
Baby vamps, is it harder work than… Are the new soda parlors worse tha… Baby vamps, do you have jobs in th… In the winter at the skating rinks… Wherever figure eights are carved,…
RED drips from my chin where I h… Not all the blood, nowhere near al… Clots of red mess my hair And the tiger, the buffalo, know h… I was a killer.
I HEARD a woman’s lips Speaking to a companion Say these words: “A woman what hustles Never keeps nothin’
DEATH comes once, let it be easy… Ring one bell for me once, let it… Or ring no bell at all, better yet… Sing one song if I die. Sing John Brown’s Body or Shout…
COUNT these reminiscences like m… The Greeks had their picnics unde… The Romans wore glad rags and tol… The Carlovingians hauling logs on… Stuck their noses in the air and s…
There is a wolf in me . . . fangs… tongue for raw meat. . . and the h… this wolf because the wilderness g… will not let it go. There is a fox in me. . . a silver…
You have spoken the answer. A child searches far sometimes Into the red dust On a dark rose leaf And so you have gone far
POLICEMAN in front of a bank… Policeman State and Madison... hi… Woman in suburbs... keeping night… Woman selling gloves... bargain da…
Have I broken the smaller taberna… And in the destruction of these se… I know nothing today, what I have… They were beautiful in a way, thes… They were beautiful—why did the hy…
NANCY HANKS dreams by the fir… Dreams, and the logs sputter, And the yellow tongues climb. Red lines lick their way in flicke… Oh, sputter, logs.
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…
THE SIX month child Fresh from the tub Wriggles in our hands. This is our fish child. Give her a nickname: Slippery.