#Americans
Now the stone house on the lake fr… workmen are beginning the fence. The palings are made of iron bars… can stab the life out of any man w… As a fence, it is a masterpiece, a…
BEES and a honeycomb in the drie… And I ask no better a winding she… (over the earth and under the sun.… Let the bees go honey-hunting with… Let there be wings and yellow dust…
THEY offer you many things, I a few. Moonlight on the play of fountains… With water sparkling a drowsy mono… Bare-shouldered, smiling women and…
UNDER the harvest moon, When the soft silver Drips shimmering Over the garden nights, Death, the gray mocker,
I GIVE the undertakers permissio… to the graveyard and to lay away a… feet, the hands, all: I know there… over they can not put away. Let the nanny goats and the billy…
Look out how you use proud words. When you let proud words go, it is… They wear long boots, hard boots;… Look out how you use proud words.
THE LAWYERS, Bob, know too mu… They are chums of the books of old… They know it all, what a dead hand… A stiff dead hand and its knuckles… The bones of the fingers a thin wh…
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…
The strong men keep coming on. They go down shot, hanged, sick, b… They live on, fighting, singing, l… The strong men... they keep coming… The strong mothers pulling them fr…
I DRANK musty ale at the Illino… the millionaire manufacturer of Gr… one night And his face had the shining light… he spoke of a beautiful daughter,…
This town belongs to the Dead, to the Dead and to the Wilderness. Back of the clamps on a fireproof door they hold the papers of the Dead in a house here And when two living men fall ou...
HERE is a face that says half-past seven the same way whether a murder or a wedding goes on, whether a funeral or a picnic crowd passes. A tall one I know at the end of a hallway broo...
(For Paula)THE GRIP of the ice… The silvers chase purple. The purples tag silver. They let out their runners Here where summer says to the lili…
THERE are no handles upon a lang… Whereby men take hold of it And mark it with signs for its rem… It is a river, this language, Once in a thousand years
I THOUGHT of killing myself be… I don’t care like I used to; I la… When the sun is in my eyes and the…
