Cornhuskers. 1918.
#AmericanWriters
SMASH down the cities. Knock the walls to pieces. Break the factories and cathedrals… and homes Into loose piles of stone and lumb…
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…
telling where the wind comes from open a story. Pencils telling where the wind goes end a story.
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…
AFTER the last red sunset glimme… Black on the line of a low hill ri… Formed into moving shadows, I saw A plowboy and two horses lined aga… Plowing in the dusk the last furro…
What is the name you called me?— And why did you go so soon? The crows lift their caws on the w… And the wind changed and was lonel… The warblers cry thier sleepy-song…
THE FLUTTER of blue pigeon’s… Under a river bridge Hunting a clean dry arch, A corner for a sleep– This flutters here in a woman’s ha…
‘I KNEW a real man once,’ says… Did a man touch his lips to Agath… Agatha, far past forty in a splend…
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…
HERE is a face that says half-past seven the same way whether a murder or a wedding goes on, whether a funeral or a picnic crowd passes. A tall one I know at the end of a hallway broo...
Here is dust remembers it was a ro… one time and lay in a woman’s hair… Here is dust remembers it was a wo… one time and in her hair lay a ros… Oh things one time dust, what else…
They were calling certain styles o… And another manner of beard assume… Of 'mutton chops,' 'galways,… Metaphors such as these sprang fro… Sprang from sparrows finding scatt…
Gather the stars if you wish it so… Gather the songs and keep them. Gather the faces of women. Gather for keeping years and years… And then . . .
I KNOW an ice handler who wears… pearl buttons the size of a dollar… And he lugs a hundred—pound hunk i… box, helps himself to cold ham and… Tells the bartender it’s hotter th…
THE TIME has gone by. The child is dead. The child was never even born. Why go on? Why so much as begin? How can we turn the clock back now