#AmericanWriters
I AM riding on a limited express,… of the nation. Hurtling across the prairie into b… go fifteen all-steel coaches holdi… (All the coaches shall be scrap an…
HERE in a cage the dollars come… To the click of a tube the dollars… And out of a mouth the dollars run… I finger the dollars, Paper and silver,
RIDING against the east, A veering, steady shadow Purrs the motor-call Of the man-bird Ready with the death-laughter
IN the old wars drum of hoofs and… In the new wars hum of motors and… In the wars to come silent wheels… yet dreamed out in the heads of me… In the old wars clutches of short…
DOWN between the walls of shadow Where the iron laws insist, The hunger voices mock. The worn wayfaring men With the hunched and humble should…
WHEN Abraham Lincoln was shoveled into the tombs, he forgot the copperheads and the assassin … in the dust, in the cool tombs. And Ulysses Grant lost all thought of con men and Wall S...
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…
In western fields of corn and nort… They talk about me, a saloon with… The soft red lights, the long curv… The leather seats and dim corners, Tall brass spittoons, a nigger cut…
IN the morning, a Sunday morning, shadows of sea and adumbrants of rock in her eyes... horseback in leather boots and leather gauntlets by the sea. In the evening, a Sunday evening, a r...
WHITE MOON comes in on a baby… The shafts across her bed are flim… Out on the land White Moon shines… Shines and glimmers against gnarle… All silver to slow twisted shadows
A million young workmen straight and strong lay stiff on the grass and roads, And the million are now under soil and their rottening flesh will in the years feed roots of blood-red rose...
I SAW a mouth jeering. A smile o… A fist hit the mouth: knuckles of… The fist hit the mouth over and ov… And I saw the more the fist pound…
I HAVE love And a child, A banjo And shadows. (Losses of God,
FOR the gladness here where the s… evening on the weeds at the river, Our prayer of thanks. For the laughter of children who t… bareheaded in the summer grass,
There is a blue star, Janet, Fifteen years’ ride from us, If we ride a hundred miles an hour… There is a white star, Janet, Forty years’ ride from us,