AMONG the bumble-bees in red-top… I read your heart in a book. And your mouth of blue pansy—I kn… And I have seen a woman with her… And the blue pansy mouth sang to t…

I will read ashes for you, if you… I will look on the fire and tell y… And out of the red and black tongu… I will tell how fire comes And how fire runs far as the sea.

DEATH comes once, let it be easy… Ring one bell for me once, let it… Or ring no bell at all, better yet… Sing one song if I die. Sing John Brown’s Body or Shout…

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…

THE TELESCOPE picks off star… on the clean steel sky and sends i… The telephone picks off my voice a… sends it cross country a thousand… The eyes in my head pick off pages…

speak, sir, and be wise. Speak choosing your words, sir, li…

YOUR bony head, Jazbo, O dock w… Those grappling hooks, those wheel… The dome and the wings of you, ***… The red roof and the door of you, I know where your songs came from.

On Forty-first Street near Eighth Avenue a frame house wobbles. If houses went on crutches this house would be

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...

LET us be honest; the lady was no… married a corporation lawyer who p… a Ziegfeld chorus. Before then she never took anybody… for her silk stockings out of what…

ELSIE FLIMMERWON, you got a… The houses go wild when you finish… It is long ago, Elsie Flimmerwon,… It is long ago, Elsie, and now th… Then you were a little thing in ch…

NAPOLEON shifted, Restless in the old sarcophagus And murmured to a watchguard: “Who goes there?” “Twenty-one million men,

A FOREFINGER of stone, dreame… It says: This way! this way! Four lions snore in stone at the c… They too are the dream of a sculpt… They too say: This way! this way!

ABOWSKY’S place is on a side street and only the rain washes the dusty three balls. When I passed the window a month ago, there rested in proud isolation: A family bible with hasps ...

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…