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by Carl Sandburg, 1918

Bilbea, I was in Babylon on Saturday night.
 I saw nothing of you anywhere.
 I was at the old place and the other girls were there, but no Bilbea.

 Have you gone to another house? or city?
 Why don’t you write?
 I was sorry. I walked home half-sick.

 Tell me how it goes.
 Send me some kind of a letter.
 And take care of yourself.

Published in Cornhuskers

Any corrections or public domain poems I should have here? Email me at poems (at) this domain.