MONEY is nothing now, even if I… O mooney moon, yellow half moon, Up over the green pines and gray e… Up in the new blue. Streel, streel,

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

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…

THE HORSE’S name was Remorse. There were people said, ‘Gee, wha… And they were Edgar Allan Poe bu… They called him Remorse. When he was a gelding

WHAT do we see here in the sand… moon alone with our thoughts, Bill… Alone with our dreams, Bill, soft… scarves around their heads dancing… Alone with a picture and a picture…

On a mountain-side the real estate… Put up signs marking the city lots… A man whose father and mother were… Ran a goat farm half-way down the… He drove a covered wagon years ago…

ON the breakwater in the summer d… girl are sitting, She across his knee and they are l… Talking to each other without word… silence to each other.

Band concert public square Nebraska city. Flowing and circling dresses, summer-white dresses. Faces, flesh tints flung like sprays of cherry blossoms. And gigglers, God knows, gigglers,...

RED drips from my chin where I h… Not all the blood, nowhere near al… Clots of red mess my hair And the tiger, the buffalo, know h… I was a killer.

THE BOY Alexander understands his father to be a famous lawyer. The leather law books of Alexander’s father fill a room like hay in a barn. Alexander has asked his father to let him bui...

THE WIND stops, the wind begins… The wind says stop, begin. A sea shovel scrapes the sand floo… The shovel changes, the floor chan… The sandpipers, maybe they know.

They were calling certain styles o… And another manner of beard assume… Of “mutton chops,” “galways,” “fea… Metaphors such as these sprang fro… Sprang from sparrows finding scatt…

ON the lips of the child Janet fl… It is a thin spiral of blue smoke, A morning campfire at a mountain l… On the lips of the child Janet, Wisps of haze on ten miles of corn…

Into the blue river hills The red sun runners go And the long sand changes And to-day is a goner And to-day is not worth haggling o…

STYLE—go ahead talking about sty… You can tell where a man gets his… as you can tell where Pavlowa got… or Ty Cobb his batting eye. Go on talking.