#AmericanWriters
IN the morning, a Sunday morning, shadows of sea and adumbrants of rock in her eyes... horseback in leather boots and leather gauntlets by the sea. In the evening, a Sunday evening, a r...
The little girl saw her first troo… ‘What are those?’ ‘Soldiers.’ ‘What are soldiers?’ ‘They are for war. They fight and…
Make rhythms up to the ragtime chatter of the machine guns; Make slow-booming psalms up to the boom of the big guns. Make a marching song of swinging arms and swinging legs, On ...
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,
I WANDER down on Clinton stree… And listen to the voices of Itali… It is a cataract of coloratura And I could sleep to their musica…
EARLY May, after cold rain the… Irish setter pup finds a corner ne… Cuddling there he crosses forepaws… Sideways on this pillow, dozing in… Browns of hazel nut, mahogany, ros…
Maybe he believes me, maybe not. Maybe I can marry him, maybe not. Maybe the wind on the prairie, The wind on the sea, maybe, Somebody, somewhere, maybe can tel…
It’s going to come out all right&m… The sun, the birds, the grass&mdas… They get along—and we’ll get… Some days will be rainy and you wi… And the letter you wait for won’t…
THE CHICK in the egg picks at… “Cheep … cheep … cheep” is the sal… “Cheep … cheep” … from oval to ova… It is at the door of this house, t… (In the academies many books, at t…
And so to-day—they lay him away— the boy nobody knows the name of– the buck private—the unknown soldi… the doughboy who dug under and die… when they told him to– that’s him.
AFTER the last red sunset glimme… Black on the line of a low hill ri… Formed into moving shadows, I saw A plowboy and two horses lined aga… Plowing in the dusk the last furro…
THE DOUBLE moon, one on the hi… The sky moon of fire and the river… I saw them last night, a cradle mo… The river-I remember this like a… I know now it takes many many year…
It’s a jazz affair, drum crashes a… The trombone pony neighs and the t… The banjo tickles and titters too… The chippies talk about the funnie… The cartoonists weep in their beer…
I AM the nigger. Singer of songs, Dancer. . . Softer than fluff of cotton. . . Harder than dark earth
LEAVES of poplars pick Japanese… Moon sand on the canal doubles the… The moon’s good-by ends pictures. The west is empty. All else is em… Only dark listening to dark.
