#AmericanWriters
THREE tailors of Tooley Street… The names are forgotten. It is a… Cutters or bushelmen or armhole ba… cross-legged stitching, snatched a… other thimbles.
She had a box with a million red bandanas for hi… She gave them to him one by one or by thousands, saying then she had not enough for…
My knees are loose-like, my feet want to sling their selves. I feel like tickling you under the chin-honey-and a-asking: Why Does a Chicken Cross the Road? When the hens are a-laying eg...
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
SOMEBODY’S little girl-how eas… Somebody’s little girl-she played… It was somewhere on the Erie line… And out of her hair she shook the… Somebody’s little girl-forty littl…
I ASKED a gypsy pal To imitate an old image And speak old wisdom. She drew in her chin, Made her neck and head
Let the crows go by hawking their… They have been swimming in midnigh… Let 'em hawk their caw and caw. Let the woodpecker drum and drum o… He has been swimming in red and bl…
STRONG rocks hold up the riksdag bridge... always strong river waters shoving their shoulders against them... In the riksdag to-night three hundred men are talking to each other about m...
SMOKE of the fields in spring is… Smoke of the leaves in autumn anot… Smoke of a steel-mill roof or a ba… They all go up in a line with a sm… Or they twist … in the slow twist…
NIGHT from a railroad car window Is a great, dark, soft thing Broken across with slashes of ligh…
THE SEA is large. The sea hold on a leg of land in t… Five white houses on a half-mile s… Not so long ago … the sea was larg… And to-day the sea has lost nothin…
A MAN saw the whole world as a g… cross-bones. The rose flesh of lif… faces. Nothing counts. Everything… dust and ashes to ashes and then a… useless silence. So he saw it all.…
THE PEACE of great doors be fo… Wait at the knobs, at the panel ob… Wait for the great hinges. The peace of great churches be for… Where the players of loft pipe org…
Passing through huddled and ugly w… By doorways where women Looked from their hunger-deep eyes… Haunted with shadows of hunger-han… Out from the huddled and ugly wall…
WOMEN of night life amid the lig… Where the line of your full, round… Matches in gleam the glint of your… And the ring of your heart-deep la… It is much to be warm and sure of…
