#Americans
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…
JOHN BROWN’S body under the m… Six feet of dust under the morning… And a panorama of war performs its… Over the six-foot stage of circlin… Room for Gettysburg, Wilderness,…
AMONG the grassroots In the moonlight, who comes circli… red tongues and high noses? Is one of ‘em Buck and one of ’em White Fang?
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…
HUNTINGTON sleeps in a house… Huntington dreams of railroads he… Huntington dreams of ten thousand… Blithery sleeps in a house six fee… Blithery dreams of rails and ties…
I ASKED the professors who teac… me what is happiness. And I went to famous executives w… thousands of men. They all shook their heads and gav…
WHY shall I keep the old name? What is a name anywhere anyway? A name is a cheap thing all father… each child: A job is a job and I want to live…
speak, sir, and be wise. Speak choosing your words, sir, li…
PAULA is digging and shaping the… Scarlet Chinese talker of summer. Two petals of crabapple blossom bl… hair, And fluff of white from a cottonwo…
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…
POLICEMAN in front of a bank… Policeman State and Madison... hi… Woman in suburbs... keeping night… Woman selling gloves... bargain da…
On a mountain-side the real estate… Put up signs marking the city lots… A man whose father and mother were… Ran a goat farm half-way down the… He drove a covered wagon years ago…
THE SINS of Kalamazoo are neit… The sins of Kalamazoo are a convi… And the people who sin the sins of… They run to drabs and grays-and so… Yes, Kalamazoo is a spot on the m…
FIRST I would like to write for you a poem to be shouted in the teeth of a strong wind. Next I would like to write one for you to sit on a hill and read down the river valley on a late ...
‘I KNEW a real man once,’ says… Did a man touch his lips to Agath… Agatha, far past forty in a splend…