My whiskey is a tough way of life: The wild cherry continually pressing back peach orchards. I am a penniless rumsoak. Where shall I have that solidity which trees find in the ground? My stuff is the feel of good legs and a broad pelvis under the gold hair ornaments of skyscrapers. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HARLEM SHADOWS by CLAUDE MCKAY A LIFE-LESSON by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY SONNET: 104 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE CHARACTERS: WILLIAM ENFIELD by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD IN JUNIOR YEAR by WILLIAM GRANT BARNEY DON'T YOU SEE? by KATHARINE LEE BATES |