Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
La Salle Street—EveningJohn Gould Fletcher
From “Chicago Notes”
T
Each one a successive fiat.
The greenish light of the sky.
Immense stubborn cliffs of fatality,
Motionless summits of denial,
Striving with silent ambition
To crush the last glimmer out.
People go hastily beneath them with embittered glances.
They do not heed the throng,
They do not hesitate at all:
Their treasuries are locked and barred behind triple-brazed armor of steel.
They are an army in massive alignment:
We are the trampled grass quivering beneath their feet.