Not yet hast Thou sounded Thy clangorous music, Whose strings are under the mounta… Not yet hast Thou spoken The blooded, implacable Word...

Undulant rustlings, Of oncoming silk, Rhythmic, incessant, Like the motion of leaves… Fragments of color

Where to-day would a dainty buyer Imbibe your scented juice, Pale ruin with a heart of fire; Drain your succulence with her lip… Grown sapless from much use…

—Albert Parsons went to his death singing Annie Laurie; didn’t another have a rose in his coat–

Come forth, you workers! Let the fires go cold’€” Let the iron spill out, out of the… Let the iron run wild Like a red bramble on the floors’€…

We are old, Old as song. Before Rome was Or Cyrene. Mad nights knew us

Is it you I see go by the window,… at me nor any one, And your shadow swaying from East… Strange that you should be walking… And your legs tied up with a knot…

Snow wraiths circle us Like washers of the dead, Flapping their white wet cloths Impatiently About the grizzled head,

Out of the lamp—bestarred and clou… Snaring, illuding, concealing, Magically conjuring - Turning to fairy-coaches Beetle-backed limousines

That was a great night we spied up… See-sawing home, Singing a hot sweet song to the su… Shuffling off behind the smoke-haz… Fog-horns sentimentalizing on the…

I wonder how it would be here with you, where the wind that has shaken off its dust in lo… touches one cleanly,

That day, in the slipping of torso… on the bloodied ooze of fields plo… And the smoke bluish near earth an… floating like cotton-down, And the harsh and terrible screami…

Out of fiery contacts ... Rushing auras of steel Touching and whirled apart ... Out of the charged phallases Of iron leaping

The earth is motionless And poised in space ... A great bird resting in its flight Between the alleys of the stars. It is the wind’s hour off ...

Drab discoloration Of faces, façades, pawn-shops, Second-hand clothing, Smoky and fly-blown glass of lunch… Odors of rancid life’€¦