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          COME you, cartoonists,
          Hang on a strap with me here
          At seven o'clock in the morning
          On a Halsted street car.

               Take your pencils
               And draw these faces.

Try with your pencils for these crooked faces,
That pig-sticker in one corner--his mouth--
That overall factory girl--her loose cheeks.

               Find for your pencils
               A way to mark your memory
               Of tired empty faces.

               After their night's sleep,
               In the moist dawn
               And cool daybreak,
               Tired of wishes,
               Empty of dreams.


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Carl Sandburg  Chicago Poems - Online Since Sept 1998
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