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.