#Americans #Suicide #1923 #ThreeStoriesAndTenPoems
I guess looking at it now my old man was cut out for a fat guy, one of those regular little roly fat guys you see around, but he sure never got that way, except a little toward the last...
Desire and All the sweet pulsing aches And gentle hurtings That were you, Are gone into the sullen dark.
The door of Henry’s lunch-room opened and two men came in. They sat down at the counter. “I don’t know,” one of the men said. “What do you want to eat, Al?” “I don’t know,” said Al. “I ...
Some came in chains Unrepentant but tired. Too tired but to stumble. Thinking and hating were finished Thinking and fighting were finishe…
Three Roman soldiers are in a drinking-place at eleven o’clock at night. There are barrels around the wall. Behind the wooden counter is a Hebrew wine-seller. The three Roman soldiers a...
The crowd shouted all the time and threw pieces of bread down into the ring, then cushions and leather wine bottles, keeping up whistling and yelling. Finally the bull was too tired fro...
It was a frightfully hot day. We’d jammed an absolutely perfect barricade across the bridge. It was simply priceless. A big old wrought iron grating from the front of a house. Too heavy...
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
They hanged Sam Cardinella at six o’clock in the morning in the corridor of the county jail. The corridor was high and narrow with tiers of cells on either side. All the cells were occu...
The king was working in the garden. He seemed very glad to see me. We walked through the garden. This is the queen, he said. She was clipping a rose bush. Oh how do you do, she said. We...
Manuel Garcia climbed the stairs to Don Miguel Retana’s office. He set down his suitcase and knocked on the door. There was no answer. Manuel, standing in the hallway, felt there was so...
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.
Men went happily to death But they were not the men Who marched For years Up to the line.
Workingmen believed He busted trusts, And put his picture in their windo… ‘What he’d have done in France!’ They said.