Cornhuskers. 1918.
#Americans
IN the moonlight under a shag-bar… Watching the yellow shadows melt i… Listening to the yes and the no of… I kept my guess why the night was… The night was lit with a woman’s e…
THEY offer you many things, I a few. Moonlight on the play of fountains… With water sparkling a drowsy mono… Bare-shouldered, smiling women and…
THE LAW says you and I belong t… The law says you are mine and I a… And there are a million miles of w… Between the chair where you sit an… The law says two strangers shall e…
BECAUSE I have called to you as the flame flamingo calls, or the want of a spotted hawk is called– because in the dusk
ROSES and gold For you today, And the flash of flying flags. I will have Ashes,
IF the oriole calls like last yea… when the south wind sings in the o… if the leaves climb and climb on a… saying over a song learnt from the… if the crickets send up the same o…
She held herself a deep pool for h… And the shadows crying for him He gathered himself in many dark w… And the shadows crying for her They took each other in shadow mee…
I asked the mayor of Gary about the 12-hour day and the 7-day week. And the mayor of Gary answered more workmen steal time on the job in Gary than any other place in the United States. ...
Drum on your drums, batter on your… sob on the long cool winding saxop… Go to it, O jazzmen. Sling your knuckles on the bottoms… tin pans, let your trombones ooze,…
UNDERTAKERS, hearse drivers,… I speak to you as one not afraid o… You handle dust going to a long co… You know the secret behind your jo… you lower the coffin with modern,…
Wilson and Pilcer and Snack stood… Wilson said, ‘What is its name? I… it? Is it a he or a she? How old… it cost to feed? How much does it… one cost? If it dies, what will th…
YOUR bow swept over a string, an… quivered to the air. (A mother of Bohemia sobs over a… learning to suck milk.) Your bow ran fast over all the hig…
WISHES left on your lips The mark of their wings. Regrets fly kites in your eyes.
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…
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,…