#AmericanWriters #Epigram
A porcupine skin, Stiff with bad tanning, It must have ended somewhere. Stuffed horned owl Pompous
Drummed their boots on the camion… Hob—nailed boots on the camion flo… Sergeants stiff, Corporals sore. Lieutenant thought of a Mestre wh…
Workingmen believed He busted trusts, And put his picture in their windo… 'What he’d have done in France!' They said.
Some came in chains Unrepentant but tired. Too tired but to stumble. Thinking and hating were finished Thinking and fighting were finishe…
If my Valentine you won’t be, I’ll hang myself on your Christma…
The Lord is my shepherd, I shall… want him for long.
Soldiers never do die well; Crosses mark the places— Wooden crosses where they fell, Stuck above their faces. Soldiers pitch and cough and twitc…
There was a cat named Crazy Chris… Who never lived long enough to scr… He was gay hearted, young and hand… And all the secrets of life he kne… He would always arrive on time for…
He tried to spit out the truth; Dry—mouthed at first, He drooled and slobbered in the en… Truth dribbling his chin.
Desire and All the sweet pulsing aches And gentle hurtings That were you, Are gone into the sullen dark.
The age demanded that we sing And cut away our tongue. The age demanded that we flow And hammered in the bung. The age demanded that we dance
They sucked us in; King and country, Christ Almighty And the rest. Patriotism,
So now, Losing the three last night, Taking them back today, Dripping and dark the woods . . .
The only man I ever loved Said good bye And went away He was killed in Picardy On a sunny day.
In the rain in the rain in the rai… Does it rain in Spain? Oh yes my dear on the contrary and… The dancers dance in long white pa… It isn’t right to yence your aunts