| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | The Camp Follower | | By Maxwell Bodenheim |
| | | WE spoke, the camp-follower and I. | |
| About us was a cold, pungent odor— | |
| Gun-powder, stale wine, wet earth, and the smell of thousands of men. | |
| She said it reminded her of the scent | |
| In the house of prostitutes she had lived in. | 5 |
| About us were soldiers—hordes of scarlet women, stupidly, smilingly giving up their bodies | |
| To a putrid-lipped, chuckling lover—Death; | |
| While their mistresses in tinsel whipped them on…. | |
| She spoke of a woman she had known in Odessa, | |
| Owner of a huge band of girls, | 10 |
| Who had pocketed their earnings for years, | |
| Only to be used, swindled and killed by some nobleman…. | |
| She said she thought of this grinning woman | |
| Whenever she saw an officer brought back from battle, dead…. | |
| And I sat beside her and wondered. | 15 | | | |
|
|
