|Harriet Monroe, ed. (18601936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 191222.|
|By Carl Sandburg|
From My People
I SAW a mouth jeering. A smile of melted red iron ran over it. Its laugh was full of nails rattling. It was a childs dream of a mouth.
|A fist hit the mouth: knuckles of gun-metal driven by an electric wrist and shoulder. It was a childs dream of an arm.|
|The fist hit the mouth over and over, again and again. The mouth bled melted iron, and laughed its laughter of nails rattling.|
|And I saw the more the fist pounded the more the mouth laughed. The fist is pounding and pounding, and the mouth answering.|