#AmericanWriters
RINGS of iron gray smoke; a woman’s steel face... looking... looking. Funnels of an ocean liner negotiating a fog night; pouring a taffy mass down the wind; layers of soot on the top de...
MEMORY of you is . . . a blue s… I cannot remember the name of it. Alongside a bold dripping poppy is… And they cover you.
COME you, cartoonists, Hang on a strap with me here At seven o’clock in the morning On a Halsted street car. Take your pencils
THIS Mohammedan colonel from the Caucasus yells with his voice and wigwags with his arms. The interpreter translates, ‘I was a friend of Kornilov, he asks me what to do and I tell him.’...
GALOOTS, you hairy, hankering, Snousle on the bones you eat, chew… Grab off the bones in the paws of… If long-necks sit on their rumps a… Galoots fat with too much, galoots…
Every year Emily Dickinson sent o… the first arbutus bud in her garde… In a last will and testament Andr… remembered a friend with the gift… Washington’s pocket spy-glass.
IN the Shenandoah Valley, one rider gray and one rider blue, and the sun on the riders wondering. Piled in the Shenandoah, riders blue and riders gray, piled with shovels, one and ano...
WOMEN of night life amid the lig… Where the line of your full, round… Matches in gleam the glint of your… And the ring of your heart-deep la… It is much to be warm and sure of…
Sobs En Route to a Penitentiary Good-by now to the streets and the… locking hubs, The sun coming on the brass buckle… The muscles of the horses sliding…
WHAT can we say of the night? The fog night, the moon night, the… There swept out of the sea a song. There swept out of the sea-torn wh… There came on the coast wind drive
I AM singing to you Soft as a man with a dead child sp… Hard as a man in handcuffs, Held where he cannot move: Under the sun
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
THE BUFFALOES are gone. And those who saw the buffaloes ar… Those who saw the buffaloes by tho… Those who saw the buffaloes are go… And the buffaloes are gone.
MAMIE beat her head against the… town and dreamed of romance and bi… somewhere the way the railroad tra… She could see the smoke of the eng… where the streaks of steel flashed…
YELLOW dust on a bumble bee’s wing, Grey lights in a woman’s asking eyes, Red ruins in the changing