#Americans #PulitzerPrice #XIXCentury #XXCentury
Six years I worked in a knitting… And then I married Jerry, the ice… He weighed 240 pounds, and could h… Who weighed 105 pounds, outward ea… He came home drunk and lay on me w…
BURY this old Illinois farmer wi… He slept the Illinois nights of h… Now he goes on a long sleep. The wind he listened to in the cor… The same wind will now blow over t…
THE SUMMER shirt sale of a downtown haberdasher is glorified in a show-window slang: everybody understands the language: red dots, yellow circles, blue anchors, and dove-brown hooks, th...
DO you know how the dream looms?… Summer when the lungs of the earth… And another long breath for the si… So I shall look for you in the li… In the listening tops of the hicko…
I AM the nigger. Singer of songs, Dancer. . . Softer than fluff of cotton. . . Harder than dark earth
(Chirstmas Day, 1917)THE FIV… The red dust of a rusty crimson is… The timberline turns in a cover of… ‘Jesus in an Illinois barn early…
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…
THE single clenched fist lifted a… Or the open asking hand held out a… Choose: For we meet by one or the other.
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 ...
FLANDERS, the name of a place,… Spells itself with letters, is wri… “Where is Flanders?” was asked on… Flanders known only to those who l… And milked cows and made cheese an…
IN the moonlight under a shag-bar… Watching the yellow shadows melt i… Listening to the yes and the no of… I kept my guess why the night was… The night was lit with a woman’s e…
BY day... tireless smokestacks...… By night... all lit up... fire-gol…
ONE man killed another. The sayi… The killer wept over the dead. Th… Why is the sun a red ball in the s… Why is the moon a tumbling chimney…
Gather the stars if you wish it so… Gather the songs and keep them. Gather the faces of women. Gather for keeping years and years… And then . . .
YOUR western heads here cast on… You are the two that fade away tog… Partners in the mist. Lunging buffalo shoulder, Lean Indian face,