Already old, the question Who shall die? Becomes unspoken Who is innocent? |
And in a comic mood, In mid-air take to bed a wife. |
But this invites the occult mind, Cancels our physics with a sneer, And spatters all we knew of denouement,Across the expedient and wicked stones. |
But with exquisite breathing you smile, with satisfaction of love, And I touch you again as you tick in the silence and settle in sleep. |
Give me the free and poor inheritance, Of our own kind, not furniture, Of education, or the prophet's pose, The general cause of words, the hero's stance, The ambitions incommensurable with flesh. |
Haul up the flag, you mourners, Not half-mast but all the way; The funeral is done and disbanded; The devil's had the final say |
He shall eat flowers, Chew honey and spit out gall. They shall all smile, and love and pity him. His death shall be by drowning. |
However others calculate the cost, To us the final aggregate is one, One with a name, one transferred to the blest; And though another stoops and takes the gun, We cannot add the second to the first. |
I see slip to the curb the long machines, Out of whose warm and windowed rooms pirouette, Shellacked with silk and light, The hard legs of our women. |
In the tight belly of the dead, Burrow with hungry head, And inlay maggots like a jewel. |
Lastly, his tomb shall list and founder in the troughs of grass. And none shall speak his name. |
Laughter and grief join hands. Always the heart Clumps in the breast with heavy stride; The face grows lined and wrinkled like a chart, The eyes bloodshot with tears and tide. Let the wind blow, for many a man shall die. |
My soul is now her day, my day her night, So I lie down, and so I rise. |
O hideous little bat, the size of snot, With polyhedral eye and shabby clothes. |
Oh, it is I, Incredibly skinny, stooped, and neat as pie, Ignorant as dirt, erotic as an ape, Dreamy as puberty - with dirty hair! |