African Guardian of Souls, Drunk with rum, Feasting on strange cassava, Yielding to new words and a weak p… Of a white-faced sardonic god—

Hair—braided chestnut, coiled like a lyncher’s rope, Eyes—fagots, Lips—old scars, or the first red b… Breath—the last sweet scent of can…

Tell me, dear beauty of the dusk, When purple ribbons bind the hill, Do dreams your secret wish fulfill… Do prayers, like kernels from the… Come from your lips? Tell me if w…

Pour O pour that parting soul in… O pour it in the sawdust glow of n… Into the velvet pine-smoke air ton… And let the valley carry it along. And let the valley carry it along.

Whoever it was who brought the fir… To start the Fire, did his part w… Not all wood takes to fire from a… Nor coal from wood before it’s bur… The wood and coal in question caug…

Come, brother, come. Lets lift it… come now, hewit! roll away! Shackles fall upon the Judgment D… But lets not wait for it. God’s body’s got a soul,

Thunder blossoms gorgeously above… Great, hollow, bell-like flowers, Rumbling in the wind, Stretching clappers to strike our… Full-lipped flowers

I am a reaper whose muscles set at sundown. All my oats are cradled. But I am too chilled, and too fatigued to bind them. I crack a grain between my teeth. I do not taste it. I have bee...

Whizzing, whizzing down the street-car tracks. Seventh Street is a bastrad of Prohibition and the War. A crude-boned, soft-skinned wedge of nigger life breathing its loafer...

Full moon rising on the waters of… Lakes and moon and fires, Cloine tires, Holding her lips apart. Promises of slumber leaving shore…

The sky, lazily disdaining to purs… The setting sun, too indolent to h… A lengthened tournament for flashi… Passively darkens for night’s barb… A feast of moon and men and barkin…