#AmericanWriters
If my Valentine you won’t be, I’ll hang myself on your Christma…
We were in a garden at Mons. Young Buckley came in with his patrol from across the river. The first German I saw climbed up over the garden wall. We waited till he got one leg over and ...
A porcupine skin, Stiff with bad tanning, It must have ended somewhere. Stuffed horned owl Pompous
Soldiers never do die well; Crosses mark the places— Wooden crosses where they fell, Stuck above their faces. Soldiers pitch and cough and twitc…
Outside, the snow was higher than the window. The sunlight came in through the window and shone on a map on the pine-board wall of the hut. The sun was high and the light came in over t...
In the fall the war was always there, but we did not go to it any more. It was cold in the fall in Milan and the dark came very early. Then the electric lights came on, and it was pleas...
I’m off’n wild wimmen An Cognac An Sinnin’ For I’m in loOOOOOOOve.
In the rain in the rain in the rai… Does it rain in Spain? Oh yes my dear on the contrary and… The dancers dance in long white pa… It isn’t right to yence your aunts
Workingmen believed He busted trusts, And put his picture in their windo… ‘What he’d have done in France!’ They said.
In 1919 he was travelling on the railroads in Italy carrying a square of oilcloth from the headquarters of the party written in indelible pencil and saying here was a comrade who had su...
The first matador got the horn through his sword hand and the crowd hooted him out. The second matador slipped and the bull caught him through the belly and he hung on to the horn with ...
The age demanded that we sing And cut away our tongue. The age demanded that we flow And hammered in the bung. The age demanded that we dance
Desire and All the sweet pulsing aches And gentle hurtings That were you, Are gone into the sullen dark.
On the four lira he had earned by spading the hotel garden he got quite drunk. He saw the young gentleman coming down the path and spoke to him mysteriously. The young gentleman said he...
For we have thought the longer tho… And gone the shorter way. And we have danced to devils’ tune… Shivering home to pray; To serve one master in the night,