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Ernest Hemingway

Ernest Hemingway

Along with Youth

A porcupine skin,
Stiff with bad tanning,
It must have ended somewhere.
Stuffed horned owl
Pompous
Yellow eyed;
Chuck—wills—widow on a biassed twig
Sooted with dust.
Piles of old magazines,
Drawers of boy’s letters
And the line of love
They must have ended somewhere.
Yesterday’s Tribune is gone
Along with youth
And the canoe that went to pieces on the beach
The year of the big storm
When the hotel burned down
At Seney, Michigan.

#Americans #Suicide #1923 #FreeVerse #ThreeStoriesAndTenPoems

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They sucked us in; King and country, Christ Almighty And the rest. Patriotism,
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In our time: Chapter 8

While the bombardment was knocking the trench to pieces at Fossalta, he lay very flat and sweated and prayed oh jesus christ get me out of here. Dear jesus please get me out. Christ ple...
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In our time: Chapter 4

We were in a garden at Mons. Young Buckley came in with his patrol from across the river. The first German I saw climbed up over the garden wall. We waited till he got one leg over and ...
Advice to a Son

Never trust a white man, Never kill a Jew, Never sign a contract, Never rent a pew. Don’t enlist in armies;
 1
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Poem

The only man I ever loved Said good bye And went away He was killed in Picardy On a sunny day.
 2
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On the four lira he had earned by spading the hotel garden he got quite drunk. He saw the young gentleman coming down the path and spoke to him mysteriously. The young gentleman said he...
In our time: Chapter 12

They whack whacked the white horse on the legs and he knee-ed himself up. The picador twisted the stirrups straight and pulled and hauled up into the saddle. The horse’s entrails hung d...
In our time: Chapter 14

If it happened right down close in front of you, you could see Villalta snarl at the bull and curse him, and when the bull charged he swung back firmly like an oak when the wind hits it...
In our time: Chapter 2

The first matador got the horn through his sword hand and the crowd hooted him out. The second matador slipped and the bull caught him through the belly and he hung on to the horn with ...
I'm Off'n Wild Wimmen

I’m off’n wild wimmen An Cognac An Sinnin’ For I’m in loOOOOOOOve.
 2
In our time: Chapter 17

They hanged Sam Cardinella at six o’clock in the morning in the corridor of the county jail. The corridor was high and narrow with tiers of cells on either side. All the cells were occu...
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