THE LADY in red, she in the chi… Brilliant as the shine of a pepper… She behind a false-face, the much… The lady in red sox and red hat, a… I sit in a corner

WALKED among the streets of an old city and the streets were lean as the throats of hard seafish soaked in salt and kept in barrels many years. How old, how old, how old, we are:—the...

Child of the Aztec gods, how long must we listen here, how long before we go? The dust is deep on the lintels. The dust is dark on the doors.

In the pocket of the first, the earliest evening star.. . . There is a sheet of red ember glow on the river; it is dusk; and the muskrats one by one go on patrol routes west. Arou...

I CANNOT tell you now; When the wind’s drive and whirl Blow me along no longer, And the wind’s a whisper at last— Maybe I’ll tell you then—

SMASH down the cities. Knock the walls to pieces. Break the factories and cathedrals… and homes Into loose piles of stone and lumb…

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…

IT’S a lean car … a long-legged d… The feet of it eat the dirt of a r… Danny the driver dreams of it when… It is in Danny’s life and runs in…

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...

LEGS hold a torso away from the… And a regular high poem of legs is… Powers of bone and cord raise a be… Out of ooze and over the loam wher… And arms have a chance to hammer a…

COOL your heels on the rail of a… Let the engineer open her up for n… Take in the prairie right and left… A gray village flecks by and the h… A barnyard and fifteen Holstein c…

There is a blue star, Janet, Fifteen years’€™ ride from us, If we ride a hundred miles an hour… There is a white star, Janet, Forty years’€™ ride from us,

YOUR whitelight flashes the fros… Moon of the purple and silent west… Remember me one of your lovers of…

I SHALL foot it Down the roadway in the dusk, Where shapes of hunger wander And the fugitives of pain go by. I shall foot it

Sobs En Route to a Penitentiary Good-by now to the streets and the… locking hubs, The sun coming on the brass buckle… The muscles of the horses sliding…