#Americans #Suicide
The mills of the gods grind slowly… But this mill Chatters in mechanical staccato. Ugly short infantry of the mind, Advancing over difficult terrain,
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...
In the fall the war was always there, but we did not go to it any more. It was cold in the fall in Milan and the dark came very early. Then the electric lights came on, and it was pleas...
One hot evening in Milan they carried him up onto the roof and he could look out over the top of the town. There were chimney swifts in the sky. After a while it got dark and the search...
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 ...
There was a cat named Crazy Chris… Who never lived long enough to scr… He was gay hearted, young and hand… And all the secrets of life he kne… He would always arrive on time for…
The crowd shouted all the time and threw pieces of bread down into the ring, then cushions and leather wine bottles, keeping up whistling and yelling. Finally the bull was too tired fro...
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...
Soldiers never do die well; Crosses mark the places— Wooden crosses where they fell, Stuck above their faces. Soldiers pitch and cough and twitc…
The hills across the valley of the Ebro were long and white. On this side there was no shade and no trees and the station was between two lines of rails in the sun. Close against the si...
The age demanded that we sing And cut away our tongue. The age demanded that we flow And hammered in the bung. The age demanded that we dance
Workingmen believed He busted trusts, And put his picture in their windo… ‘What he’d have done in France!’ They said.
The sea desires deep hulls— It swells and rolls. The screw churns a throb— Driving, throbbing, progressing. The sea rolls with love
Men went happily to death But they were not the men Who marched For years Up to the line.
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...
