#AmericanWriters
SHAKE back your hair, O red-hea… Let go your laughter and keep your… Somewhere is a man looking for a r… Around and around go ten thousand… I have seen them hunting, hunting.
Pile the bodies high at Austerlit… Shovel them under and let me work— I am the grass; I cover all. And pile them high at Gettysburg And pile them high at Ypres and V…
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…
(Washington, August, 1918)I HAV… I have seen this city in the night… And in the night and the moon I h… The float of the dome in the day a… The float of the dome in the night…
I TOO have a garret of old playt… I have tin soldiers with broken ar… I have a wagon and the wheels gone… I have guns and a drum, a jumping-… And dust is on them and I never l…
OUT of the testimony of such relu… Out of a rag saturated with smears… From such a rag that has wiped the… From such a rag perhaps I shall w…
I DRANK musty ale at the Illino… the millionaire manufacturer of Gr… one night And his face had the shining light… he spoke of a beautiful daughter,…
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-…
MEMORY of you is . . . a blue s… I cannot remember the name of it. Alongside a bold dripping poppy is… And they cover you.
GUNS on the battle lines have po… between Brussels and Paris. And, William Morris, when I read… the great arches and naves and lit… corners of the Churches of Northe…
I WILL keep you and bring hands… I will run a spear in you for a gr… I will stab you between the ribs o…
OVER the dead line we have calle… To come across with a word to us, Some beaten whisper of what happen… Where you are over the dead line Deaf to our calls and voiceless.
THE owl-car clatters along, dogge… From building and battered paving-… The headlight scoffs at the mist, And fixes its yellow rays in the c… Against a pane I press my forehea…
Maybe he believes me, maybe not. Maybe I can marry him, maybe not. Maybe the wind on the prairie, The wind on the sea, maybe, Somebody, somewhere, maybe can tel…
ON the one hand the steel works. On the other hand the penitentiary… Sante Fé trains and Alton trains Between smokestacks on the west And gray walls on the east.