#AmericanWriters
Tall timber stood here once, hee o… Here the roots of a half-mile of t… Then the axemen came and the chips… Dynamite, wagons, and horses took… It would come hard now for this ha…
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 ro...
THEN came, Oscar, the time of th… And there was no land for a man, n… Unless guns sprang up And spoke their language. The how of running the world was a…
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…
THE bronze General Grant riding… Park Shrivels in the sun by day when th… by in long processions going somew… for dinner and matinees and buying…
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,
GIVE me hunger, O you gods that sit and give The world its orders. Give me hunger, pain and want, Shut me out with shame and failure
COUNT these reminiscences like m… The Greeks had their picnics unde… The Romans wore glad rags and tol… The Carlovingians hauling logs on… Stuck their noses in the air and s…
THE SHALE and water thrown tog… Then a potter’s hand on the wheel… Slimpsy, loose and ready to fall a… Dipped in glaze more fire plays on… Take it now; out of mud now here i…
THE WASHERWOMAN is a member… And over the tub of suds rubbing u… She sings that Jesus will wash he… And the red wrongs she has done G… Shall be white as driven snow.
THE dago shovelman sits by the ra… Eating a noon meal of bread and bo… A train whirls by, and men and wom… Alive with red roses and yellow jo… Eat steaks running with brown grav…
SHE sits in the dust at the walls And makes cigars, Bending at the bench With fingers wage-anxious, Changing her sweat for the day’s p…
I SPOT the hills With yellow balls in autumn. I light the prairie cornfields Orange and tawny gold clusters And I am called pumpkins.
EVERYBODY loved Chick Lorimer… Far off Everybody loved her. So we all love a wild girl keeping… On a dream she wants.
THREE tailors of Tooley Street… The names are forgotten. It is a… Cutters or bushelmen or armhole ba… cross-legged stitching, snatched a… other thimbles.