Poems

(Europe Conquers America.)

Strong for the strong and in his own conceit;
Half-boy, half-madman, playing with the fire;
Usurper, hoodlum, wed to his desire;
Loud in the hunt--afraid albeit to beat
The wolves which reared him--always with swift feet,
Booted and spurred to huddle in the mire
The malcontents, though Freedom die--no higher
Launching his truncheon; only to the street
Thundering at millionaires; unlearned, though read,
In human agony--surrendered up
To glory, war--of empty pomp the chief--
Europa, thou hast conquered! with bowed head
For Freedom slain (who prayed might pass the cup)
We pray, in faith, thy triumph may be brief!
...

- New Orleans, November 1910

Four weeks have passed since I left, and still
I must write to you of no work. I've worn down
the soles and walked through the tightness
of my new shoes calling upon the merchants,
their offices bustling. All the while I kept thinking
my plain English and good writing would secure
for me some modest position Though I dress each day
in my best, hands covered with the lace gloves

...