#Americans
I LOVE your faces I saw the man… I drank your milk and filled my mo… With your home talk, slept in your… And was one of you. But a fire burns in my heart.
LISTEN a while, the moon is a l… Listen a while, the lake by night… I know the moon and the lake have…
Wagon wheel gap is a place I neve… And Red Horse Gulch and the chut… Red-shirted miners picking in the… Gamblers with red neckties in the… The fly-by-night towns of Bull Fr…
AFTER you have spent all the money modistes and manicures and mannikins will take for fixing you over into a thing the people on the streets call proud and beautiful, After the shops an...
JIMMY WIMBLETON listened a… Ditches along prairie roads of No… Filled the arch of night with youn… Infinite mathematical metronomic c… Rose and sang, rose in a choir of…
Lincoln? He was a mystery in smoke and flag… Saying yes to the smoke, yes to th… Yes to the paradoxes of democracy, Yes to the hopes of government
Maybe he believes me, maybe not. Maybe I can marry him, maybe not. Maybe the wind on the prairie, The wind on the sea, maybe, Somebody, somewhere, maybe can tel…
NEITHER rose leaves gathered in… Cinders-these-hissing in a marl an…
THE HIGH horses of the sea brok… On the walls that held and counted… The wind lasted. Two landbirds looked on and the no… Looked on and the wind poured cups…
POLICEMAN in front of a bank… Policeman State and Madison... hi… Woman in suburbs... keeping night… Woman selling gloves... bargain da…
SUNDAY night and the park polic… is dark as a stack of black cats o… A big picnic boat comes home to C… farms of Saugatuck. Hundreds of electric bulbs break t…
MRS. GABRIELLE GIOVANNI… every morning at nine o’clock With kindling wood piled on top of… looking straight ahead to find the… Her daughter-in-law, Mrs. Pietro…
The strong men keep coming on. They go down shot, hanged, sick, b… They live on, fighting, singing, l… The strong men... they keep coming… The strong mothers pulling them fr…
‘I KNEW a real man once,’ says… Did a man touch his lips to Agath… Agatha, far past forty in a splend…
AFTER the last red sunset glimme… Black on the line of a low hill ri… Formed into moving shadows, I saw A plowboy and two horses lined aga… Plowing in the dusk the last furro…