STUTTERING Gatling and sputtering Mauser, Rumble of field piece and grumble of shell; On they come flying, boot-heels on their dying, Yapping and scrapping and raising blue hell! Shoulder to shoulder, up hillside they fumble. One man is singing and one dropping dead. One has gone daft with the joy of good killing. One has a spurting hole plugged through his head. Idaho herder and clearing house runner, Riff of the mining camps, doctors of law, Strangers in motherhood, wrought into brother-hood, Brought back to cavemen and brutes in the raw. Rough of the cowlands you gambler, you rustler, Godless you are, but you kill like a prince! Loafer of clubrooms, your soul code is putrid, But damned if the bared teeth of death make you wince! Go to Wyoming or out to Nevada, Ask in Missouri, and they'll tell you how When that whole hillside spewed bullets like hailstones, Laughing and chaffing the dudes led the row. Up at Tuxedo, at Newport, at Larchmont, Round about Hempstead, you'll find chaps who say That a man does n't need to know pink teas or germans To set out for hell in a gentleman's way. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO MY CLASS: ON CERTAIN FRUITS AND FLOWERS SENT ... SICKNESS by SIDNEY LANIER GIRL IN A CAGE by CARL SANDBURG HITS AND RUNS by CARL SANDBURG VIGNETTES OVERSEAS: 6. RUINS OF PAESTUM by SARA TEASDALE CLOTHES by JEAN STARR UNTERMEYER |