#AmericanWriters
IN the newspaper office—who are t… Who wears the mythic coat invisibl… Who pussyfoots from desk to desk with a speaking forefinger? Who gumshoes amid the copy paper
Sobs En Route to a Penitentiary Good-by now to the streets and the… locking hubs, The sun coming on the brass buckle… The muscles of the horses sliding…
I SAW a telegram handed a two hundred pound man at a desk. And the little scrap of paper charged the air like a set of crystals in a chemist’s tube to a whispering pinch of salt. Cross ...
THE BUFFALOES are gone. And those who saw the buffaloes ar… Those who saw the buffaloes by tho… Those who saw the buffaloes are go… And the buffaloes are gone.
FLING your red scarf faster and… It is summer and the sun loves a m… masses of green. Your red scarf flashes across them… The silk and flare of it is a grea…
LET us sit by a hissing steam rad… And let us talk about milk wagon d… Let us keep our feet in wool slipp… Let us write of olden, golden days… A roustabout hunched on a coal wag…
There is a wolf in me . . . fangs… tongue for raw meat. . . and the h… this wolf because the wilderness g… will not let it go. There is a fox in me. . . a silver…
INTO the gulf and the pit of the dark night, the cold night, there is a man goes into the dark and the cold and when he comes back to his people he brings fire in his hands and they rem...
WHY should I be wondering How you would look in black velvet… I who cannot remember whether it w… Or a whirr of red under your willo… Why do I wonder how you would loo…
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…
I SPOT the hills With yellow balls in autumn. I light the prairie cornfields Orange and tawny gold clusters And I am called pumpkins.
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…
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 ...
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...
ONE by one lights of a skyscraper… I believe the skyscraper loves nig… And loves the white of her shoulde… The masonry of steel looks to the… He is a little dizzy and almost da…