#AmericanWriters
This flower is repeated out of old winds, out of old times. The wind repeats these, it must have these, over and
IN a Yiddish eating place on Riv… They know it is September on Rivi… Here the children snozzle at milk… Here the stranger wonders how so m…
I KNOW a Jew fish crier down on… voice like a north wind blowing ov… in January. He dangles herring before prospect… a joy identical with that of Pavlo…
What is the name you called me?— And why did you go so soon? The crows lift their caws on the w… And the wind changed and was lonel… The warblers cry thier sleepy-song…
In western fields of corn and nort… They talk about me, a saloon with… The soft red lights, the long curv… The leather seats and dim corners, Tall brass spittoons, a nigger cut…
CAST a bronze of my head and legs and put them on the king’s street. Set the cast of me here alongside Carl XII, making two Carls for the Swedish people and the utlanders to look at bet...
RINGS of iron gray smoke; a woman’s steel face '¦ looking '¦ looking. Funnels of an ocean liner negotiating a fog night; pouring a taffy mass down the wind; layers of soot on the to...
DEATH is stronger than all the g… the governments are men and men di… death laughs: Now you see 'em, now… Death is stronger than all proud m… snips proud men on the nose, throw…
THE young child, Christ, is stra… And asks questions of the old men,… Found under running water for all… And found under shadows thrown on… By tall trees looking downward, ol…
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…
I DON’T know how he came, shambling, dark, and strong. He stood in the city and told men: My people are fools, my people are… Always he kept on asking: Where d…
ABOWSKY’S place is on a side street and only the rain washes the dusty three balls. When I passed the window a month ago, there rested in proud isolation: A family bible with hasps ...
I WILL keep you and bring hands… I will run a spear in you for a gr… I will stab you between the ribs o…
THE DOWN drop of the blackbird, The wing catch of arrested flight, The stop midway and then off: off… This is April’s way: a woman: ‘O yes, I’m here again and your h…
THE FINE cloth of your love mig… Something Sinbad, the sailor, too… Something a traveler with plenty o… And bring home and stick on the wa… ‘There’s a little thing made a hit…