#Americans
SLING me under the sea. Pack me down in the salt and wet. No farmer’s plow shall touch my bo… No Hamlet hold my jaws and speak How jokes are gone and empty is my…
THIRTY-TWO Greeks are dipping… Sloshing their bare feet in a cool… All one midsummer day ten hours th… stand in leather shoes shoveling g… Now they hold their toes and ankle…
I AM the mist, the impalpable mis… Back of the thing you seek. My arms are long, Long as the reach of time and spac… Some toil and toil, believing,
ROSES and gold For you today, And the flash of flying flags. I will have Ashes,
I REMEMBER once I ran after y… shirt of you in the wind. Once many days ago I drank a glas… the picture of you shivered and sl… stuff.
HERE in a cage the dollars come… To the click of a tube the dollars… And out of a mouth the dollars run… I finger the dollars, Paper and silver,
TWENTY men stand watching the m… Stabbing the sides of the ditch Where clay gleams yellow, Driving the blades of their shovel… Deeper and deeper for the new gas…
JESUS emptied the devils of one man into forty hogs and the hogs took the edge of a high rock and dropped off and down into the sea: a mob. The sheep on the hills of Australia, blunde...
YOU came from the Aztecs With a copper on your fore-arms Tawnier than a sunset Saying good-by to an even river. And I said, you remember,
Not exactly the spinning circles of singing golden spiders, Not exactly this have they got at nor the meaning of flowers—O flowers, flowers slung by a dancing girl—in the saddest play t...
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,…
WRITE your wishes on the door and come in. Stand outside in the pools of the harvest moon.
GOOD-BY now to the streets and… locking hubs, The sun coming on the brass buckle… The muscles of the horses sliding… haunches,
WHY shall I keep the old name? What is a name anywhere anyway? A name is a cheap thing all father… each child: A job is a job and I want to live…
The fog comes on little cat feet. It sits looking over harbor and city on silent haunches