YOU never come back. I say good-by when I see you goin… The hopeless open doors that call… And take you then for—how many cen… How many cents for the sleepy eyes…

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 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…

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…

FOR a woman’s face remembered as a spot of quick light on the flat land of dark night, For this memory of one mouth and a forehead they go on in the gray rain and the mud, they go on ...

AM I the river your white birds f… Are you the green valley my silver… The two of us a bowl of blue sky d… Who picked you out of the first great whirl of no…

Under the open sun and the yellow gloaming embers. They speak to me. I can not tell you what they say. Yesterday and to-morrow cross and mix on the skyline The two are lost in a purple ...

The lean hands of wagon men put out pointing fingers here, picked this crossway, put it on a… set up their sawbucks, fixed their… found a hitching place for the pon…

HERE in a cage the dollars come… To the click of a tube the dollars… And out of a mouth the dollars run… I finger the dollars, Paper and silver,

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

YOUR bony head, Jazbo, O dock w… Those grappling hooks, those wheel… The dome and the wings of you, ***… The red roof and the door of you, I know where your songs came from.

DAYS of the dead men, Danny. Drum for the dead, drum on your remembering heart. Jaurès, a great love-heart of Fra… a slug of lead in the red valves.

EMILY DICKINSON: You gave us the bumble bee who has… The everlasting traveler among the… And how God plays around a back y… STEVIE CRANE:

GRIEG being dead we may speak of… Grieg being dead we can talk about… Grieg being with Ibsen, Björnson… Grieg being dead does not care a h… Morning, Spring, Anitra’s Dance,

THE Government—I heard about th… I went out to find it. I said I w… it when I saw it. Then I saw a policeman dragging a… the callaboose. It was the Govern…