#AmericanWriters
WHITE MOON comes in on a baby… The shafts across her bed are flim… Out on the land White Moon shines… Shines and glimmers against gnarle… All silver to slow twisted shadows
NEW-MOWN hay smell and wind of… a woman whose ribs had the power o… them and her hands were tough for… was passion for life in her womb. She and her man crossed the ocean…
THERE’S Chamfort. He’s a sampl… Locked himself in his library with… Shot off his nose and shot out his… And this Chamfort knew how to wri… And thousands read his books on ho…
Have I broken the smaller taberna… And in the destruction of these se… I know nothing today, what I have… They were beautiful in a way, thes… They were beautiful—why did the hy…
They were calling certain styles o… And another manner of beard assume… Of 'mutton chops,' 'galways,… Metaphors such as these sprang fro… Sprang from sparrows finding scatt…
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…
THE HIGH horses of the sea brok… On the walls that held and counted… The wind lasted. Two landbirds looked on and the no… Looked on and the wind poured cups…
STROLLING along By the teeming docks, I watch the ships put out. Black ships that heave and lunge And move like mastodons
Child of the Aztec gods, how long must we listen here, how long before we go? The dust is deep on the lintels. The dust is dark on the doors.
I HAVE lived in many half-worlds… I leaned at a deck rail watching a… I leaned so... and you fluttered s… Child of water, child of air, fin…
DAYS of the dead men, Danny. Drum for the dead, drum on your remembering heart. Jaurès, a great love-heart of Fra… a slug of lead in the red valves.
THE POLICEMAN buys shoes slow and careful; the teamster buys gloves slow and careful; they take care of their feet and hands; they live on their feet and hands. The milkman never argu...
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.’...
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…
GUNS, Long, steel guns, Pointed from the war ships In the name of the war god. Straight, shining, polished guns,