#Americans
ON the lips of the child Janet fl… It is a thin spiral of blue smoke, A morning campfire at a mountain l… On the lips of the child Janet, Wisps of haze on ten miles of corn…
LISTEN a while, the moon is a l… Listen a while, the lake by night… I know the moon and the lake have…
THREE tailors of Tooley Street… The names are forgotten. It is a… Cutters or bushelmen or armhole ba… cross-legged stitching, snatched a… other thimbles.
MANY birds and the beating of wi… Make a flinging reckless hum In the early morning at the rocks Above the blue pool Where the gray shadows swim lazy.
CAST a bronze of my head and legs and put them on the king’s street. Set the cast of me here alongside Carl XII, making two Carls for the Swedish people and the utlanders to look at bet...
Not exactly the spinning circles of singing golden spiders, Not exactly this have they got at nor the meaning of flowers—O flowers, flowers slung by a dancing girl—in the saddest play t...
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…
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.
DO you know how the dream looms?… Summer when the lungs of the earth… And another long breath for the si… So I shall look for you in the li… In the listening tops of the hicko…
DUST of the feet And dust of the wheels, Wagons and people going, All day feet and wheels. Now. . .
AMONG the red guns, In the hearts of soldiers Running free blood In the long, long campaign: Dreams go on.
TEN minutes now I have been look… I have gone by here before and won… This is a bronze memorial of a fam… Riding horseback with a flag and a… on him.
The haggard woman with a hacking cough and a deathless love whispers of white flowers... in your poem you pour like a cup of coffee, Gabriel. The slim girl whose voice was lost in the w...
STROLLING along By the teeming docks, I watch the ships put out. Black ships that heave and lunge And move like mastodons
This flower is repeated out of old winds, out of old times. The wind repeats these, it must have these, over and
