I WILL keep you and bring hands… I will run a spear in you for a gr… I will stab you between the ribs o…

HIGH noon. White sun flashes on… asphalt. Drum of hoofs and whirr o… Women trapsing along in flimsy clo… play of sun-fire to their skin and… Inside the playhouse are movies fr…

Hot gold runs a winding stream on… Yellow trickles in a fan figure, s… of dancing girls, performs blazing… one stream, forgets the past and r… The sea-mist green of the bowl’s b…

TWENTY men stand watching the m… Stabbing the sides of the ditch Where clay gleams yellow, Driving the blades of their shovel… Deeper and deeper for the new gas…

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…

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:

I have been in Pennsylvania, In the Monongahela and Hocking V… In the blue Susquehanna On a Saturday morning I saw a mounted constabulary go by…

I AM glad God saw Death And gave Death a job taking care… of living: When all the wheels in a clock are… the connections loose

OUT of white lips a question: Sh… Out of white lips:—Shall they hav… Out of white lips:—Is the red in… Out of white lips a white pain mur…

Maybe he believes me, maybe not. Maybe I can marry him, maybe not. Maybe the wind on the prairie, The wind on the sea, maybe, Somebody, somewhere, maybe can tel…

THE FLUTTER of blue pigeon’s… Under a river bridge Hunting a clean dry arch, A corner for a sleep– This flutters here in a woman’s ha…

TWO Swede families live downstairs and an Irish policeman upstairs, and an old soldier, Uncle Joe. Two Swede boys go upstairs and see Joe. His wife is dead, his only son is dead, and ...

BETWEEN two hills The old town stands. The houses loom And the roofs and trees And the dusk and the dark,

(We can succeed only by concert. . . . The dogmas of the quiet past are inadequate to the stormy present. The occasion is piled high with difficulty, and we must rise with the occasion....

CRIMSON is the slow smolder of… Gray is the ash that stiffens and… (A great man I know is dead and w… coffin a gone flame I sit here in… and smoke and watch my thoughts co…