IN western fields of corn and northern timber lands, They talk about me, a saloon with a soul, The soft red lights, the long curving bar, The leather seats and dim corners, Tall brass spittoons, a nigger cutting ham, And the painting of a woman half-dressed thrown reckless across a bed after a night of booze and riots. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...POOR DEVIL! by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET AN EXPATIATION ON THE COMBINING OF WEATHERS AT THIRTY .... by HAYDEN CARRUTH FRAGMENTS WRITTEN WHILE TRAVELING...A MIDWESTERN HEAT WAVE by JAMES GALVIN MY DEATH AS A GIRL I KNEW by JAMES GALVIN TO SEE THE STARS IN DAYLIGHT by JAMES GALVIN RETROSPECTION by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON |