| Carl Sandburg (18781967). Chicago Poems. 1916. |
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| 117. Poems Done on a Late Night Car |
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I. CHICKENS I AM The Great White Way of the city: | |
| When you ask what is my desire, I answer: | |
| Girls fresh as country wild flowers, | |
| With young faces tired of the cows and barns, | |
| Eager in their eyes as the dawn to find my mysteries, | 5 |
| Slender supple girls with shapely legs, | |
| Lure in the arch of their little shoulders | |
| And wisdom from the prairies to cry only softly at the ashes of my mysteries. | |
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II. USED UP Lines based on certain regrets that come with rumination upon the painted faces of women on North Clark Street, Chicago Roses, | |
| Red roses, | 10 |
| Crushed | |
| In the rain and wind | |
| Like mouths of women | |
| Beaten by the fists of | |
| Men using them. | 15 |
| O little roses | |
| And broken leaves | |
| And petal wisps: | |
| You that so flung your crimson | |
| To the sun | 20 |
| Only yesterday. | |
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III. HOME Here is a thing my heart wishes the world had more of: | |
| I heard it in the air of one night when I listened | |
| To a mother singing softly to a child restless and angry in the darkness. | |
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