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,
Faces 
Tired of wishes, 
Empty of dreams.