Cornhuskers. 1918.
#AmericanWriters
Lincoln? He was a mystery in smoke and flag… Saying yes to the smoke, yes to th… Yes to the paradoxes of democracy, Yes to the hopes of government
GIVE me your anathema. Speak new damnations on my head. The evening mist in the hills is s… The boulders on the road say commu… The farm dogs look out of their ey…
(For Paula)THE GRIP of the ice… The silvers chase purple. The purples tag silver. They let out their runners Here where summer says to the lili…
You have spoken the answer. A child searches far sometimes Into the red dust On a dark rose leaf And so you have gone far
I AM an ancient reluctant conscri… On the soup wagons of Xerxes I wa… On the march of Miltiades’ phalan… I had a bristling gleaming spear-h… Red-headed Cæsar picked me for a…
I AM singing to you Soft as a man with a dead child sp… Hard as a man in handcuffs, Held where he cannot move: Under the sun
The strong men keep coming on. They go down shot, hanged, sick, b… They live on, fighting, singing, l… The strong men... they keep coming… The strong mothers pulling them fr…
THE single clenched fist lifted a… Or the open asking hand held out a… Choose: For we meet by one or the other.
SHE loves blood-red poppies for a… In a loose white gown she walks and a new child tugs at cords in h… Her head to the west at evening wh… A shudder of gladness runs in her…
THE PEACE of great doors be fo… Wait at the knobs, at the panel ob… Wait for the great hinges. The peace of great churches be for… Where the players of loft pipe org…
I shall be eaten by gray creepers in a bunkhouse where no runners of the sun come and no dogs live. And yet-of all 'and yets’ this is the bronze strongest– I shall keep one thing better...
HATS, where do you belong? what is under you? On the rim of a skyscraper’s foreh… I looked down and saw: hats: fifty… Swarming with a noise of bees and…
Though I can whisper to you I am looking for an undertaker humming a lullaby and throwing his feet in a swift and mystic buck-and-wing, now you see it and now you don’t. Fish to swim a ...
AMONG the red guns, In the hearts of soldiers Running free blood In the long, long campaign: Dreams go on.
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…