Bringers
COVER me over In dusk and dust and dreams. Cover me over And leave me alone. Cover me over, You tireless, great. Hear me and cover me, Bringers of dusk and dust and dreams.
Interior
IN the cool of the night time The clocks pick off the points And the mainsprings loosen. They will need winding. One of these days… they will need winding. Rabelais in red boards, Walt
Death Snips Proud Men
DEATH is stronger than all the governments because the governments are men and men die and then death laughs: Now you see ’em, now you don’t. Death is stronger than all proud men and
In Tall Grass
BEES and a honeycomb in the dried head of a horse in a pasture corner-a skull in the tall grass and a buzz and a buzz of the yellow honey-hunters. And I ask no
To a Contemporary Bunkshooter
YOU come along. . . tearing your shirt. . . yelling about Jesus. Where do you get that stuff? What do you know about Jesus? Jesus had a way of talking soft and outside
Portrait of a Motor Car
IT’S a lean car… a long-legged dog of a car… a gray-ghost eagle car. The feet of it eat the dirt of a road… the wings of it eat the hills. Danny the driver
Five Towns on the B. & O
BY day… tireless smokestacks… hungry smoky shanties hanging to the slopes… crooning: We get by, that’s all. By night… all lit up… fire-gold bars, fire-gold flues… and the shanties shaking in clumsy shadows… almost
Cartoon
I AM making a Cartoon of a Woman. She is the People. She is the Great Dirty Mother. And Many Children hang on her Apron, crawl at her Feet, snuggle at her Breasts.
Mamie
MAMIE beat her head against the bars of a little Indiana Town and dreamed of romance and big things off Somewhere the way the railroad trains all ran. She could see the smoke of
Kreisler
SELL me a violin, mister, of old mysterious wood. Sell me a fiddle that has kissed dark nights on the forehead where men kiss sisters they love. Sell me dried wood that has ached
Dogheads
AMONG the grassroots In the moonlight, who comes circling, red tongues and high noses? Is one of ’em Buck and one of ’em White Fang? In the moonlight, who are they, cross-legged, telling their
Alley Rats
THEY were calling certain styles of whiskers by the name of “lilacs.” And another manner of beard assumed in their chatter a verbal guise Of “mutton chops,” “galways,” “feather dusters.” Metaphors such as these
Real Estate News
ARMOUR AVENUE was the name of this street and door signs on empty houses read “The Silver Dollar,” “Swede Annie” and the Christian names of madams such as “Myrtle” and “Jenny.” Scrap iron, rags
Let Love Go On
LET it go on; let the love of this hour be poured out till all the answers are made, the last dollar spent and the last blood gone. Time runs with an ax and
Horses and Men in Rain
LET us sit by a hissing steam radiator a winter’s day, gray wind pattering frozen raindrops on the window, And let us talk about milk wagon drivers and grocery delivery boys. Let us keep