Fight
Carl Sandburg
1878 to 1967
Red drips from my chin where I have been eating
Not all the blood, nowhere near all, is wiped off my mouth
Clots of red mess my hair
And the tiger, the buffalo, know how
I was a killer
Yes, I am a killer
I come from killing
I go to more
I drive red joy ahead of me from killing
Red gluts and red hungers run in the smears and juices of my inside bones
The child cries for a suck mother and I cry for war
Carl Sandburg's Fight
I am busy working to bring Carl Sandburg's "Fight" to life through some unique musical arrangements and will have a full analysis of the poem here for you later.
In the meantime, I invite you to explore the poem's themes, structure, and meaning. You can also check out the gallery for other musical arrangements or learn more about Carl Sandburg's life and contributions to literature.
Check back soon to experience how "Fight" transforms when verse meets melody—a unique journey that makes poetry accessible, engaging, and profoundly moving in new ways.
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