OVER the dead line we have calle… To come across with a word to us, Some beaten whisper of what happen… Where you are over the dead line Deaf to our calls and voiceless.

HOW many feet ran with sunlight,… What little devils shaken of laugh… Fixed this lone red tulip, a woman… Who hurled this bomb of red caress… Love me before I die;

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—

FROM the time of the early radis… To the time of the standing corn Sleepy Henry Hackerman hoes. There are laws in the village agai… The law says a weed is wrong and s…

I painted on the roof of a skyscra… I painted a long while and called… The people on the corner swarmed a… They were the same as bugs, many b… These people on the go or at a sta…

I cried over beautiful things know… The field of cornflower yellow is… the mother of the year, the taker… The northwest wind comes and the y… come in the first spit of snow on…

THE BUFFALOES are gone. And those who saw the buffaloes ar… Those who saw the buffaloes by tho… Those who saw the buffaloes are go… And the buffaloes are gone.

BECAUSE I have called to you as the flame flamingo calls, or the want of a spotted hawk is called– because in the dusk

A STORM of white petals, Buds throwing open baby fists Into hands of broad flowers. Red roses running upward, Clambering to the clutches of life

There will be a rusty gun on the w… The rifle grooves curling with fla… A spider will make a silver string… darkest, warmest corner of it. The trigger and the range-finder,…

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...

THEY put up big wooden gods. Then they burned the big wooden go… And put up brass gods and Changing their minds suddenly Knocked down the brass gods and pu…

TWO Swede families live downstairs and an Irish policeman upstairs, and an old soldier, Uncle Joe. Two Swede boys go upstairs and see Joe. His wife is dead, his only son is dead, and ...

PAPA JOFFRE, the shoulders of him wide as the land of France. We look on the shoulders filling the stage of the Chicago Auditorium. A fat mayor has spoken much English and the mud o...