ALL the policemen, saloonkeepers and efficiency experts in Toledo knew Bern Dailey; secretary ten years when Whitlock was
Pickpockets, yeggs, three card men, he knew them all and how they flit from zone to zone, birds of wind and weather, singers,
The Washington monument pointed to a new moon for us and a gang from over the river sang ragtime to a ukelele.
The river mist marched up and down the Potomac, we hunted the fog-swept Lincoln Memorial, white as a blond womans arm.
We circled the city of Washington and came back home four oclock in the morning, passing a sign: House Where Abraham
Lincoln Died, Admission 25 Cents.
I got a letter from him in Sweden and I sent him a postcard from Norway .. every newspaper from America ran news of the
The path of a night fog swept up the river to the Lincoln Memorial when I saw it again and alone at a winters end, the
marble in the mist white as a blond womans arm.