#Americans
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.
When country fiddlers held a conve… Danville, the big money went to a… artist who played Turkey in the S… variations. They asked him the name of the pie…
The little girl saw her first troo… ‘What are those?’ ‘Soldiers.’ ‘What are soldiers?’ ‘They are for war. They fight and…
LET down your braids of hair, lad… Cross your legs and sit before the… And gaze long on lines under your… Life writes; men dance. And you know how men pay women.
SHE sits in the dust at the walls And makes cigars, Bending at the bench With fingers wage-anxious, Changing her sweat for the day’s p…
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… A Polish boy is out with his best…
Singing to Paris for bread, singing to Gotham in a fizz at the pop of a bottle’s cork. “Won’t you come and play wiz me” she sang... and “I just can’t make my eyes behave.” “Higgeldy-Pig...
I WROTE a poem on the mist And a woman asked me what I meant… I had thought till then only of th… how pearl and gray of it mix and r… And change the drab shanties with…
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...
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,
SHE loves blood-red poppies for a… In a loose white gown she walks and a new child tugs at cords in h… Her head to the west at evening wh… A shudder of gladness runs in her…
NEW-MOWN hay smell and wind of… a woman whose ribs had the power o… them and her hands were tough for… was passion for life in her womb. She and her man crossed the ocean…
A MAN saw the whole world as a g… cross-bones. The rose flesh of lif… faces. Nothing counts. Everything… dust and ashes to ashes and then a… useless silence. So he saw it all.…
My knees are loose-like, my feet want to sling their selves. I feel like tickling you under the chin-honey-and a-asking: Why Does a Chicken Cross the Road? When the hens are a-laying eg...
THERE are no handles upon a lang… Whereby men take hold of it And mark it with signs for its rem… It is a river, this language, Once in a thousand years