#AmericanWriters
JACK was a swarthy, swaggering s… He worked thirty years on the rail… and his hands were tougher than so… He married a tough woman and they… and the woman died and the childre…
IN a jeweler’s shop I saw a man b… out thin sheets of gold. I heard a… laugh many years ago. Under a peach tree I saw petals s… .. torn strips of a bride’s dress.…
OUT of white lips a question: Sh… Out of white lips:—Shall they hav… Out of white lips:—Is the red in… Out of white lips a white pain mur…
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…
I WILL keep you and bring hands… I will run a spear in you for a gr… I will stab you between the ribs o…
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…
I SHALL never forget you, Broad… Your golden and calling lights. I’ll remember you long, Tall-walled river of rush and play… Hearts that know you hate you
FLING your red scarf faster and… It is summer and the sun loves a m… masses of green. Your red scarf flashes across them… The silk and flare of it is a grea…
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…
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…
The long beautiful night of the wi… The long night hanging down from t… Swinging, swaying, to the wind for… What is the humming, swishing thin… The rain, the wind, the swishing w…
Band concert public square Nebraska city. Flowing and circling dresses, summer-white dresses. Faces, flesh tints flung like sprays of cherry blossoms. And gigglers, God knows, gigglers,...
Six streets come together here. They feed people and wagons into t… In and out all day horses with tho… Men with shovels, women with baske… Six ends of streets and no sleep f…
THE sea is never still. It pounds on the shore Restless as a young heart, Hunting. The sea speaks
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