#AmericanWriters
THIS Mohammedan colonel from the Caucasus yells with his voice and wigwags with his arms. The interpreter translates, ‘I was a friend of Kornilov, he asks me what to do and I tell him.’...
WHY shall I keep the old name? What is a name anywhere anyway? A name is a cheap thing all father… each child: A job is a job and I want to live…
MONEY is nothing now, even if I… O mooney moon, yellow half moon, Up over the green pines and gray e… Up in the new blue. Streel, streel,
GOLD of a ripe oat straw, gold o… Canada thistle blue and flimmering… Tomatoes shining in the October s… Shining five and six in a row on a… Why do you keep wishes on your fac…
‘I KNEW a real man once,’ says… Did a man touch his lips to Agath… Agatha, far past forty in a splend…
Bend low again, night of summer st… So near you are, sky of summer sta… So near, a long-arm man can pick o… Pick off what he wants in the sky… So near you are, summer stars,
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…
THEN came, Oscar, the time of th… And there was no land for a man, n… Unless guns sprang up And spoke their language. The how of running the world was a…
(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…
RINGS of iron gray smoke; a woman’s steel face '¦ looking '¦ looking. Funnels of an ocean liner negotiating a fog night; pouring a taffy mass down the wind; layers of soot on the to...
THE BABY moon, a canoe, a silve… A ring of silver foxes, a mist of… One yellow star for a runner, and… O foxes, baby moon, runners, you a… Who squats, legs crossed and arms…
I LOVE him, I love him, ran the… And she formed his name on her ton… And she sent him word she loved hi… So much, and death was nothing; wo… All was nothing if her love for hi…
You come along. . . tearing your s… Jesus. Where do you get that stuff? What do you know about Jesus? Jesus had a way of talking soft an…
‘YOU ****,' he flung at her. It was more than a hundred times He had thrown it into her face And by this time it meant nothing… She said to herself upstairs sweep…
THE WISHES on this child’s mou… Came like snow on marsh cranberrie… The tamarack kept something for he… The wind is ready to help her shoe… The north has loved her; she will…