Smoke and Steel by Carl Sandburg, Paperback | Barnes & Noble
Smoke and Steel

Smoke and Steel

by Carl Sandburg
     
 

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Unlike some other reproductions of classic texts (1) We have not used OCR(Optical Character Recognition), as this leads to bad quality books with introduced typos. (2) In books where there are images such as portraits, maps, sketches etc We have endeavoured to keep the quality of these images, so they represent accurately the original artefact. Although occasionally

Overview

Unlike some other reproductions of classic texts (1) We have not used OCR(Optical Character Recognition), as this leads to bad quality books with introduced typos. (2) In books where there are images such as portraits, maps, sketches etc We have endeavoured to keep the quality of these images, so they represent accurately the original artefact. Although occasionally there may be certain imperfections with these old texts, we feel they deserve to be made available for future generations to enjoy.

Product Details

ISBN-13:
9781314449242
Publisher:
HardPress Publishing
Publication date:
06/23/2013
Pages:
290
Product dimensions:
6.00(w) x 9.00(h) x 0.61(d)

Read an Excerpt


GALOOTS Galoots, you hairy, hankering, Snousle on the bones you eat, chew at the gristle and lick the last of it. Grab off the bones in the paws of other galoots hook your claws in their sleazy mouths snap and run. If long-necks sit on their rumps and sing wild cries to the winter moon, chasing their tails to the flickers of foolish stars ... let 'em howl. Galoots fat with too much, galoots lean with too little, galoot millions and millions, snousle and snicker on, plug your exhausts, hunt your snacks of fat and lean, grab off yours. CRABAPPLE BLOSSOMS Somebody's little girl how easy to make a sob story over who she was once and who she is now. Somebody's little girl she played once under a crab- apple tree in June and the blossoms fell on the dark hair. It was somewhere on the Erie line and the town was Salamanca or Painted Post or Horse's Head. And out of her hair she shook the blossoms and went into the house and her mother washed her face and her mother had an ache in her heart at a rebel voice, " I don't want to." Somebody's little girl forty little girls of somebodies splashed in red tights forming horseshoes, arches, pyramids forty little show girls, ponies, squabs. How easy a sob story over who she once was and who she is now and how the crabapple blossoms fell on her dark hair in June. Let the lights of Broadway spangle and splatter and the taxis hustle the crowds away when the show is over and the street goes dark. Let the girls wash off the paint and go for their midnight sandwiches let 'em dream in the morning sun, late in the morning, long after the morning papers and the milk wagons Let 'em dream long as they want to . . .of June somewhere on the Erie line . . . andcrabapple blossoms. REAL ESTATE NEWS A...

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