That was a great night we spied up… See-sawing home, Singing a hot sweet song to the su… Shuffling off behind the smoke-haz… Fog-horns sentimentalizing on the…

Was there a wind? Tap... tap... Night pads upon the snow with moccasined feet... and it is still... so still... an eagle's feather might fall like a stone. Could there have been a storm...

Cool, inaccessible air Is floating in velvety blackness s… But no breath stirs the heat Leaning its ponderous bulk upon th… And most on Hester street…

Crass rays streaming from the vest… Cafes glittering like jeweled teet… High-flung signs Blinking yellow phosphorescent eye… Girls in black

That day, in the slipping of torso… on the bloodied ooze of fields plo… And the smoke bluish near earth an… floating like cotton-down, And the harsh and terrible screami…

Not your martyrs anointed of heave… The ages are red where they trod - But the Hunted - the world’s bitt… Who smote at your imbecile God - A being to pander and fawn to,

Wind rising in the alleys My spirit lifts in you like a bann… You are full of unspent dreams.... You are laden with beginnings.... There is hope in you... not sweet.…

Dour river Jaded with monotony of lights Diving off mast heads.... Lights mad with creating in a rive… Heave up, river...

It is dark’€¦ so dark, I remember… It is still’€¦ so still, I hear t… Ten times we had watched the moon Rise like a thin white virgin out… And round into a full maternity’€¦

Oh, God did cunningly, there at B… Not mere tongues dividing, but sou… So that never again should men be… To fashion one infinite, towering…

I love those spirits That men stand off and point at, Or shudder and hood up their souls… Those ruined ones, Where Liberty has lodged an hour

The earth is motionless And poised in space ... A great bird resting in its flight Between the alleys of the stars. It is the wind’s hour off ...

I am of the wind... A wisp of the battering wind... I trail my fingers along the Alps And an avalanche falls in my wake.… I feel in my quivering length

Nasal intonations of light and clicking tongues... publicity of windows stoning me with pent-up cries... smells of abattoirs...

Your love was like moonlight turning harsh things to beauty, so that little wry souls reflecting each other obliquely as in cracked mirrors’€¦ beheld in your luminous spirit their own r...