#AmericanWriters
THROW roses on the sea where the… The roses speak to the sea, And the sea to the dead. Throw roses, O lovers– Let the leaves wash on the salt in…
IN western fields of corn and nor… They talk about me, a saloon with… The soft red lights, the long curv… The leather seats and dim corners, Tall brass spittoons, a nigger cut…
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,...
NEITHER rose leaves gathered in… Cinders-these-hissing in a marl an…
STRONG rocks hold up the riksdag bridge... always strong river waters shoving their shoulders against them... In the riksdag to-night three hundred men are talking to each other about m...
THE working girls in the morning… long lines of them afoot amid the… and factories, thousands with litt… lunches wrapped in newspapers unde… Each morning as I move through th…
YOUR eyes and the valley are mem… Your eyes fire and the valley a bo… It was here a moonrise crept over… It was here we turned the coffee c… And your eyes and the moon swept t…
I REMEMBER once I ran after y… shirt of you in the wind. Once many days ago I drank a glas… the picture of you shivered and sl… stuff.
A SWIRL in the air where your h… You walked under this tree, spoke… I might almost stand here and beli…
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…
Alike only as a yellow cat and a green parrot are alike, (Maybe this is a jabber too—are we at it again, you and I?) One thing there is much of; the name men call it by is time; int...
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...
WHEN Abraham Lincoln was shoveled into the tombs, he forgot the copperheads and the assassin … in the dust, in the cool tombs. And Ulysses Grant lost all thought of con men and Wall S...
THERE is a woman on Michigan Bo… She used to keep a houseful of gir… Now she is alone with a parrot and… The love of a soldier on furlough… The love of an emigrant workman wh…
RED gold of pools, Sunset furrows six o’clock, And the farmer done in the fields And the cows in the barns with bul… Take the cows and the farmer,
