#AmericanWriters
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...
THERE are places I go when I am… One is a marsh pool where I used… with a long-ear hound-dog. One is a wild crabapple tree; I w… a moonlight night with a girl.
BLOSSOMS of babies Blinking their stories Come soft On the dusk and the babble; Little red gamblers,
BROTHER, I am fire Surging under the ocean floor. I shall never meet you, brother— Not for years, anyhow; Maybe thousands of years, brother.
I THOUGHT of killing myself be… I don’t care like I used to; I la… When the sun is in my eyes and the…
THEY put up big wooden gods. Then they burned the big wooden go… And put up brass gods and Changing their minds suddenly Knocked down the brass gods and pu…
LITTLE one, you have been buzzi… Flittering in the newspapers and d… lawyers And amid the educated men of the c… getting an earful of speech from t…
ROSES and gold For you today, And the flash of flying flags. I will have Ashes,
DEATH comes once, let it be easy… Ring one bell for me once, let it… Or ring no bell at all, better yet… Sing one song if I die. Sing John Brown’s Body or Shout…
I was born in the morning of the w… So I know how morning looks morning in the valley wanting, morning on a mountain wanting. Morning looks like people look,
EARLY May, after cold rain the… Irish setter pup finds a corner ne… Cuddling there he crosses forepaws… Sideways on this pillow, dozing in… Browns of hazel nut, mahogany, ros…
You come along. . . tearing your s… Jesus. Where do you get that stuff? What do you know about Jesus? Jesus had a way of talking soft an…
(For S. A.)TO write one book in… or five books in one year, to be the painter and the thing pa… ... where are we, bo? Wait-get his number.
YOUR bony head, Jazbo, O dock w… Those grappling hooks, those wheel… The dome and the wings of you, ***… The red roof and the door of you, I know where your songs came from.
IN the cool of the night time The clocks pick off the points And the mainsprings loosen. They will need winding. One of these days…