#Americans
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…
IN western fields of corn and nor… 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…
TOMB of a millionaire, A multi-millionaire, ladies and ge… Place of the dead where they spend… The usury of twenty-five thousand… For upkeep and flowers
NEW-MOWN hay smell and wind of… a woman whose ribs had the power o… them and her hands were tough for… was passion for life in her womb. She and her man crossed the ocean…
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.
NAPOLEON shifted, Restless in the old sarcophagus And murmured to a watchguard: “Who goes there?” “Twenty-one million men,
COUNT these reminiscences like m… The Greeks had their picnics unde… The Romans wore glad rags and tol… The Carlovingians hauling logs on… Stuck their noses in the air and s…
I AM a hoodlum, you are a hoodlum… I hate and kill better men than I… In the ends of my fingers the itch… This is the hate my father gave me… Let us go on, brother hoodlums, le…
LONG ago I learned how to sleep, In an old apple orchard where the… In a wind-gaunt orchard where the… In a passel of trees where the bra… I slept with my head in an elbow o…
BECAUSE I have called to you as the flame flamingo calls, or the want of a spotted hawk is called– because in the dusk
FOR the second time in a year thi… Her husband is a cornice manufactu… Yesterday she washed her hands for… Now the head physician touches his…
AFTER you have spent all the money modistes and manicures and mannikins will take for fixing you over into a thing the people on the streets call proud and beautiful, After the shops an...
THE SEA is large. The sea hold on a leg of land in t… Five white houses on a half-mile s… Not so long ago … the sea was larg… And to-day the sea has lost nothin…
THE shadows of the ships Rock on the crest In the low blue lustre Of the tardy and the soft inrollin… A long brown bar at the dip of the…
BROTHER, I am fire Surging under the ocean floor. I shall never meet you, brother— Not for years, anyhow; Maybe thousands of years, brother.