#AmericanWriters
WALKED among the streets of an old city and the streets were lean as the throats of hard seafish soaked in salt and kept in barrels many years. How old, how old, how old, we are:—the...
I SALUTED a nobody. I saw him in a looking-glass. He smiled—so did I. He crumpled the skin on his forehe… frowning—so did I.
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 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…
FLANDERS, the name of a place,… Spells itself with letters, is wri… “Where is Flanders?” was asked on… Flanders known only to those who l… And milked cows and made cheese an…
THE Government—I heard about th… I went out to find it. I said I w… it when I saw it. Then I saw a policeman dragging a… the callaboose. It was the Govern…
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…
YOUR western heads here cast on… You are the two that fade away tog… Partners in the mist. Lunging buffalo shoulder, Lean Indian face,
THE DOWN drop of the blackbird, The wing catch of arrested flight, The stop midway and then off: off… This is April’s way: a woman: ‘O yes, I’m here again and your h…
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
BLOSSOMS of babies Blinking their stories Come soft On the dusk and the babble; Little red gamblers,
I CANNOT tell you now; When the wind’s drive and whirl Blow me along no longer, And the wind’s a whisper at last— Maybe I’ll tell you then—
YOUR whitelight flashes the fros… Moon of the purple and silent west… Remember me one of your lovers of…
I SAW Man, the man-hunter, Hunting with a torch in one hand And a kerosene can in the other, Hunting with guns, ropes, shackles… I listened
Under the open sun and the yellow gloaming embers. They speak to me. I can not tell you what they say. Yesterday and to-morrow cross and mix on the skyline The two are lost in a purple ...
