Cornhuskers. 1918.
#Americans #PulitzerPrice #XIXCentury #XXCentury
A STORM of white petals, Buds throwing open baby fists Into hands of broad flowers. Red roses running upward, Clambering to the clutches of life
UNDERTAKERS, hearse drivers,… I speak to you as one not afraid o… You handle dust going to a long co… You know the secret behind your jo… you lower the coffin with modern,…
A MAN saw the whole world as a g… cross-bones. The rose flesh of lif… faces. Nothing counts. Everything… dust and ashes to ashes and then a… useless silence. So he saw it all.…
I SPOT the hills With yellow balls in autumn. I light the prairie cornfields Orange and tawny gold clusters And I am called pumpkins.
WANDERING oversea dreamer, Hunting and hoarse, Oh daughter a… Oh daughter of ashes and mother of… Child of the hair let down, and te… Child of the cross in the south
IN a Yiddish eating place on Riv… They know it is September on Rivi… Here the children snozzle at milk… Here the stranger wonders how so m…
LEGS hold a torso away from the… And a regular high poem of legs is… Powers of bone and cord raise a be… Out of ooze and over the loam wher… And arms have a chance to hammer a…
I SAW a mouth jeering. A smile o… A fist hit the mouth: knuckles of… The fist hit the mouth over and ov… And I saw the more the fist pound…
The woman named Tomorrow sits with a hairpin in her teeth and takes her time and does her hair the way she want… and fastens at last the last braid…
One was a white gull forming a half-mile arch from the pines toward Waukegan. One was a whistle in the little sandhills, a bird crying either to the sunset gone or the dusk come. One wa...
OUT of the testimony of such relu… Out of a rag saturated with smears… From such a rag that has wiped the… From such a rag perhaps I shall w…
WALKED among the streets of an old city and the streets were lean as the throats of hard seafish soaked in salt and kept in barrels many years. How old, how old, how old, we are:—the...
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
Tall timber stood here once, hee o… Here the roots of a half-mile of t… Then the axemen came and the chips… Dynamite, wagons, and horses took… It would come hard now for this ha…
IN the cool of the night time The clocks pick off the points And the mainsprings loosen. They will need winding. One of these days…