Dead Men May Envy Living

All A Poet Can Do Today Is Warn.

I Dreamed Kind Jesus Fouled The Big-gun Gears; And Caused A Permanent Stoppage In All Bolts; And Buckled With A Smile Mausers And Colts; And Rusted Every Bayonet With His Tears.

I Was A Boy When I First Realized That The Fullest Life Liveable Was A Poet's

I Tried To Peg Out Soldierly,--no Use! One Dies Of War Like Any Old Disease.

Was It For This The Clay Grew Tall?