#AmericanWriters
YOUR bony head, Jazbo, O dock w… Those grappling hooks, those wheel… The dome and the wings of you, nig… The red roof and the door of you, I know where your songs came from.
speak, sir, and be wise. Speak choosing your words, sir, li…
FIRST I would like to write for you a poem to be shouted in the teeth of a strong wind. Next I would like to write one for you to sit on a hill and read down the river valley on a late ...
THEY are crying salt tears Over the beautiful beloved body Of Inez Milholland, Because they are glad she lived, Because she loved open-armed,
THE child’s wonder At the old moon Comes back nightly. She points her finger To the far silent yellow thing
Sobs En Route to a Penitentiary Good-by now to the streets and the… locking hubs, The sun coming on the brass buckle… The muscles of the horses sliding…
YOUR eyes and the valley are mem… Your eyes fire and the valley a bo… It was here a moonrise crept over… It was here we turned the coffee c… And your eyes and the moon swept t…
STUFF of the moon Runs on the lapping sand Out to the longest shadows. Under the curving willows, And round the creep of the wave li…
PAPA JOFFRE, the shoulders of him wide as the land of France. We look on the shoulders filling the stage of the Chicago Auditorium. A fat mayor has spoken much English and the mud o...
GUNS, Long, steel guns, Pointed from the war ships In the name of the war god. Straight, shining, polished guns,
FROM the time of the early radis… To the time of the standing corn Sleepy Henry Hackerman hoes. There are laws in the village agai… The law says a weed is wrong and s…
MRS. GABRIELLE GIOVANNI… every morning at nine o’clock With kindling wood piled on top of… looking straight ahead to find the… Her daughter-in-law, Mrs. Pietro…
THE DOWN drop of the blackbird, The wing catch of arrested flight, The stop midway and then off: off… This is April’s way: a woman: ‘O yes, I’m here again and your h…
WALKED among the streets of an old city and the streets were lean as the throats of hard seafish soaked in salt and kept in barrels many years. How old, how old, how old, we are:—the...
NAPOLEON shifted, Restless in the old sarcophagus And murmured to a watchguard: “Who goes there?” “Twenty-one million men,