Cornhuskers. 1918.
#AmericanWriters
OPEN the door now. Go roll up the collar of your coat To walk in the changing scarf of m… Tell your sins here to the pearl f… And know for once a deepening nigh…
THIS handful of grass, brown, says little. This quarter mile field of it, waving seeds ripening in the sun, is a lake of luminous firefly lavender. Prairie roses, two of them, climb dow...
I HAVE been watching the war map… advertising in front of the newspa… Buttons—red and yellow buttons—blu… are shoved back and forth across t… A laughing young man, sunny with f…
Look out how you use proud words. When you let proud words go, it is… They wear long boots, hard boots;… Look out how you use proud words.
I AM an ancient reluctant conscri… On the soup wagons of Xerxes I wa… On the march of Miltiades’ phalan… I had a bristling gleaming spear-h… Red-headed Cæsar picked me for a…
Bend low again, night of summer st… So near you are, sky of summer sta… So near, a long-arm man can pick o… Pick off what he wants in the sky… So near you are, summer stars,
CRIMSON is the slow smolder of… Gray is the ash that stiffens and… (A great man I know is dead and w… coffin a gone flame I sit here in… and smoke and watch my thoughts co…
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…
THE GRAVE of Alexander Hamilt… The grave of Robert Fulton likewi… And in this yard stenogs, bundle b… An iron picket fence... and stream… ... easy is the sleep of Alexander…
THE LAWYERS, Bob, know too mu… They are chums of the books of old… They know it all, what a dead hand… A stiff dead hand and its knuckles… The bones of the fingers a thin wh…
I have seen The old gods go And the new gods come. Day by day And year by year
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…
WHEN the sea is everywhere from horizon to horizon .. when the salt and blue fill a circle of horizons .. I swear again how I know
There is a blue star, Janet, Fifteen years’ ride from us, If we ride a hundred miles an hour… There is a white star, Janet, Forty years’ ride from us,
Baby vamps, is it harder work than… Are the new soda parlors worse tha… Baby vamps, do you have jobs in th… In the winter at the skating rinks… Wherever figure eights are carved,…