#AmericanWriters
‘I KNEW a real man once,’ says… Did a man touch his lips to Agath… Agatha, far past forty in a splend…
CRIMSON is the slow smolder of… Gray is the ash that stiffens and… (A great man I know is dead and w… coffin a gone flame I sit here in… and smoke and watch my thoughts co…
THERE’S Chamfort. He’s a sampl… Locked himself in his library with… Shot off his nose and shot out his… And this Chamfort knew how to wri… And thousands read his books on ho…
DRAGOONS, I tell you the white… turn rust and go soon. Already mid September a line of b… over them. One sunset after another tracks th…
MANY birds and the beating of wi… Make a flinging reckless hum In the early morning at the rocks Above the blue pool Where the gray shadows swim lazy.
ON the lips of the child Janet fl… It is a thin spiral of blue smoke, A morning campfire at a mountain l… On the lips of the child Janet, Wisps of haze on ten miles of corn…
A MAN was crucified. He came to… was accused, and nailed to a cross… Laughed at the crowd. “The nails… said, “You are cheap. In my count… we use silver nails. . .” So he we…
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...
BETWEEN two hills The old town stands. The houses loom And the roofs and trees And the dusk and the dark,
COUNT these reminiscences like m… The Greeks had their picnics unde… The Romans wore glad rags and tol… The Carlovingians hauling logs on… Stuck their noses in the air and s…
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.…
ALL day long in fog and wind, The waves have flung their beating… Against the palisades of adamant. My boy, he went to sea, long and l… Curls of brown were slipping under…
THIS Mohammedan colonel from the Caucasus yells with his voice and wigwags with his arms. The interpreter translates, ‘I was a friend of Kornilov, he asks me what to do and I tell him.’...
UNDERTAKERS, hearse drivers,… I speak to you as one not afraid o… You handle dust going to a long co… You know the secret behind your jo… you lower the coffin with modern,…
FLAT lands on the end of town where real estate men are crying new subdivisions, The sunsets pour blood and fire over you hundreds and hundreds of nights, flat lands—blood and fire of...