Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

Nov 9, 1917 -

     I was painting down by the railroad, on the hill above were the foreigner’s shacks; a locomotive, the kind that shifts back + forth like animals, shrieked; the [not decipherable] over the town was startling; the engine began a deep vibrating boom that shook the earth + then stopped. It was very quiet, from the chimney’s smoke went straight up into the hazy air –

     This is the powerful freakish poetry of the town.

                   _____

     Up New garden street a band started to play.  They were having sport, each one played as queer as