#AmericanWriters
There is a wolf in me . . . fangs… tongue for raw meat. . . and the h… this wolf because the wilderness g… will not let it go. There is a fox in me. . . a silver…
I AM a copper wire slung in the a… Slim against the sun I make not e… Night and day I keep singing—humm… It is love and war and money; it i… tears, the work and want,
FIVE circus clowns dying this year, morning newspapers told their lives, how each one horizontal in a last gesture of hands arranged by an undertaker, shook thousands into convulsions o...
What does a hangman think about When he goes home at night from wo… When he sits down with his wife an… Children for a cup of coffee and a Plate of ham and eggs, do they ask
BLOSSOMS of babies Blinking their stories Come soft On the dusk and the babble; Little red gamblers,
YOUR western heads here cast on… You are the two that fade away tog… Partners in the mist. Lunging buffalo shoulder, Lean Indian face,
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…
BROTHER, I am fire Surging under the ocean floor. I shall never meet you, brother— Not for years, anyhow; Maybe thousands of years, brother.
The fog comes on little cat feet. It sits looking over harbor and city on silent haunches
IF I had a million lives to live and a million deaths to die in a million humdrum worlds, I’d like to change my name and have a new house number to go…
In the loam we sleep, In the cool moist loam, To the lull of years that pass And the break of stars, From the loam, then,
SMOKE of the fields in spring is… Smoke of the leaves in autumn anot… Smoke of a steel-mill roof or a ba… They all go up in a line with a sm… Or they twist … in the slow twist…
EMPTY battlefields keep their ph… Grass crawls over old gun wheels And a nodding Canada thistle flin… Into the summer’s southwest wind, Wrapping a root in the rust of a b…
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…
EMILY DICKINSON: You gave us the bumble bee who has… The everlasting traveler among the… And how God plays around a back y… STEVIE CRANE: