#AmericanWriters
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…
My knees are loose-like, my feet want to sling their selves. I feel like tickling you under the chin-honey-and a-asking: Why Does a Chicken Cross the Road? When the hens are a-laying eg...
BY day the skyscraper looms in th… has a soul. Prairie and valley, streets of the… it and they mingle among its twent… poured out again back to the stree…
SOMEBODY’S little girl-how eas… Somebody’s little girl-she played… It was somewhere on the Erie line… And out of her hair she shook the… Somebody’s little girl-forty littl…
Poland, France, Judea ran in her… Singing to Paris for bread, singi… ‘Won’t you come and play wiz m… ‘Higgeldy-Piggeldy,' 'Papa’… Did she wash her feet in a tub of…
I asked the mayor of Gary about the 12-hour day and the 7-day week. And the mayor of Gary answered more workmen steal time on the job in Gary than any other place in the United States. ...
On up the sea slant, On up the horizon, The ship limps. The bone of her nose fog-gray, The heart of her sea-strong,
AFTER you have spent all the money modistes and manicures and mannikins will take for fixing you over into a thing the people on the streets call proud and beautiful, After the shops an...
THE PAWN-SHOP man knows hunge… And how far hunger has eaten the h… Of one who comes with an old keeps… Here are wedding rings and baby br… Scarf pins and shoe buckles, jewel…
I DREAMED one man stood agains… One man damned as a wrongheaded fo… One year and another he walked the… And a thousand shrugs and hoots Met him in the shoulders and mouth…
THE HORSE’S name was Remorse. There were people said, ‘Gee, wha… And they were Edgar Allan Poe bu… They called him Remorse. When he was a gelding
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…
LEGS hold a torso away from the… And a regular high poem of legs is… Powers of bone and cord raise a be… Out of ooze and over the loam wher… And arms have a chance to hammer a…
(Washington, August, 1918)I HAV… I have seen this city in the night… And in the night and the moon I h… The float of the dome in the day a… The float of the dome in the night…
Mary has a thingamajig clamped on… And sits all day taking plugs out… Flashes and flashes—voies and voic… calling for ears to put words in Faces at the ends of wires asking…