#AmericanWriters
LEGS hold a torso away from the… And a regular high poem of legs is… Powers of bone and cord raise a be… Out of ooze and over the loam wher… And arms have a chance to hammer a…
SLEEP is a maker of makers. Birds sleep. Feet cling to a perch. Look at the balance. Let the legs loosen, the backbone untwist, the head go heavy over, the whole works tumbles a done bi...
I WAITED today for a freight tr… Cattle cars with steers butting th… bars, went by. And a half a dozen hoboes stood on… cars.
THERE was a wild pigeon came oft… Gray wings that wrote their loops… There was a wild pigeon. There was a summer came year by ye… Rainy months and sunny and pigeons…
THE shadows of the ships Rock on the crest In the low blue lustre Of the tardy and the soft inrollin… A long brown bar at the dip of the…
YOU came from the Aztecs With a copper on your fore-arms Tawnier than a sunset Saying good-by to an even river. And I said, you remember,
CAST a bronze of my head and legs and put them on the king’s street. Set the cast of me here alongside Carl XII, making two Carls for the Swedish people and the utlanders to look at bet...
ONCE when I saw a cripple Gasping slowly his last days with… Looking from hollow eyes, calling… Desperately gesturing with wasted… In the dark and dust of a house do…
A FOREFINGER of stone, dreame… It says: This way! this way! Four lions snore in stone at the c… They too are the dream of a sculpt… They too say: This way! this way!
Many ways to say good night. Fireworks at a pier on the Fourth… spell it with red wheels and yello… They fizz in the air, touch the wa… Rockets make a trajectory of gold-…
IN the Shenandoah Valley, one rider gray and one rider blue, and the sun on the riders wondering. Piled in the Shenandoah, riders blue and riders gray, piled with shovels, one and ano...
ARMOUR AVENUE was the name o… Scrap iron, rags and bottles fill… The segregated district, the Tend…
I AM a copper wire slung in the a… Slim against the sun I make not e… Night and day I keep singing—humm… It is love and war and money; it i… tears, the work and want,
SOMEWHERE you and I remember… Stairways from the sea and our hea… Ladders of dust and mud and our ha… Rags of drenching mist and our han… You and I that snickered in the c…
HERE is a face that says half-past seven the same way whether a murder or a wedding goes on, whether a funeral or a picnic crowd passes. A tall one I know at the end of a hallway broo...