The Rear-Guard

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1. The Lesson I keep on dying again. Veins collapse, opening like the Small fists of sleeping Children. Memory of old tombs, Rotting flesh and worms do Not convince me against The challenge. The years And cold defeat live deep in Lines along my face. They dull my eyes, yet I keep on dying, Because I love to […]...
2. Remembrance has a Rear and Front Remembrance has a Rear and Front ‘Tis something like a House It has a Garret also For Refuse and the Mouse. Besides the deepest Cellar That ever Mason laid Look to it by its Fathoms Ourselves be not pursued...
3. Fish Crier I KNOW a Jew fish crier down on Maxwell Street with a Voice like a north wind blowing over corn stubble In January. He dangles herring before prospective customers evincing A joy identical with that of Pavlowa dancing. His face is that of a man terribly glad to be selling fish, Terribly glad that God […]...
4. Bridge-Guard in the Karroo 1901 “. . . and will supply details to guard the Blood River Bridge.” District Orders-Lines of Communication, South African War. Sudden the desert changes, The raw glare softens and clings, Till the aching Oudtshoorn ranges Stand up like the thrones of Kings Ramparts of slaughter and peril Blazing, amazing, aglow ‘Twixt the sky-line’s belting […]...
5. The Song of the Old Guard Army Reform-.After Boer war “The Army of a Dream”-Traffics and Discoveries. Know this, my brethren, Heaven is clear And all the clouds are gone The Proper Sort shall flourish now, Good times are coming on” The evil that was threatened late To all of our degree Hath passed in discord and debate, And, Hey then […]...
6. Lament of the Frontier Guard By the North Gate, the wind blows full of sand, Lonely from the beginning of time until now! Trees fall, the grass goes yellow with autumn. I climb the towers and towers To watch out the barbarous land: Desolate castle, the sky, the wide desert. There is no wall left to this village. Bones white […]...
7. True one of Lorca’s best lines Is, “agony, always Agony…” Think of this when you Kill a Cockroach or Pick up a razor to Shave Or awaken in the morning To Face the Sun....
8. The Hangman's Great Hands And all that is this day. . . The boy with cap slung over what had been a face. .. Somehow the cop will sleep tonight, will make love to his Wife… Anger won’t help. I was born angry. Angry that my father was Being burnt alive in the mills; Angry that none of us […]...
9. They leave us with the Infinite They leave us with the Infinite. But He is not a man His fingers are the size of fists His fists, the size of men And whom he foundeth, with his Arm As Himmaleh, shall stand Gibraltar’s Everlasting Shoe Poised lightly on his Hand, So trust him, Comrade You for you, and I, for you […]...
10. Cumulatives STORMS have beaten on this point of land And ships gone to wreck here And the passers-by remember it With talk on the deck at night As they near it. Fists have beaten on the face of this old prize-fighter And his battles have held the sporting pages And on the street they indicate him […]...
11. The Countess Cathleen In Paradise All the heavy days are over; Leave the body’s coloured pride Underneath the grass and clover, With the feet laid side by side. Bathed in flaming founts of duty She’ll not ask a haughty dress; Carry all that mournful beauty To the scented oaken press. Did the kiss of Mother Mary Put that music in […]...
12. In Barracks The barrack-square, washed clean with rain, Shines wet and wintry-grey and cold. Young Fusiliers, strong-legged and bold, March and wheel and march again. The sun looks over the barrack gate, Warm and white with glaring shine, To watch the soldiers of the Line That life has hired to fight with fate. Fall out: the long […]...
13. The Sun kept stooping stooping low! The Sun kept stooping stooping low! The Hills to meet him rose! On his side, what Transaction! On their side, what Repose! Deeper and deeper grew the stain Upon the window pane Thicker and thicker stood the feet Until the Tyrian Was crowded dense with Armies So gay, so Brigadier That I felt martial stirrings […]...
14. A Clasp Of Hands SOFT, small, and sweet as sunniest flowers That bask in heavenly heat When bud by bud breaks, breathes, and cowers, Soft, small, and sweet. A babe’s hands open as to greet The tender touch of ours And mock with motion faint and fleet The minutes of the new strange hours That earth, not heaven, must […]...
15. The Redeemer Darkness: the rain sluiced down; the mire was deep; It was past twelve on a mid-winter night, When peaceful folk in beds lay snug asleep; There, with much work to do before the light, We lugged our clay-sucked boots as best we might Along the trench; sometimes a bullet sang, And droning shells burst with […]...
16. The Princess: A Medley: Tears, Idle Tears Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depth of some divine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy Autumn-fields, And thinking of the days that are no more. Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail, That brings our friends up […]...
17. Tears, Idle Tears Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depth of some divine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy autumn-fields, And thinking of the days that are no more. Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail, That brings our friends up […]...
18. Carl Hamblin The press of the Spoon River Clarion was wrecked, And I was tarred and feathered, For publishing this on the day the Anarchists were hanged in Chicago: “I saw a beautiful woman with bandaged eyes Standing on the steps of a marble temple. Great multitudes passed in front of her, Lifting their faces to her […]...
19. The Hat In city shop a hat I saw That to my fancy seemed to strike, I gave my wage to buy the straw, And make myself a one the like. I wore it to the village fair; Oh proud I was, though poor was I. The maids looked at me with a stare, The lads looked […]...
20. Safe Despair it is that raves Safe Despair it is that raves Agony is frugal. Puts itself severe away For its own perusal. Garrisoned no Soul can be In the Front of Trouble Love is one, not aggregate Nor is Dying double...
21. The House Of Dust: Part 03: 06: Portrait Of One Dead This is the house. On one side there is darkness, On one side there is light. Into the darkness you may lift your lanterns- O, any number-it will still be night. And here are echoing stairs to lead you downward To long sonorous halls. And here is spring forever at these windows, With roses on […]...
22. The Old House In through the porch and up the silent stair; Little is changed, I know so well the ways; Here, the dead came to meet me; it was there The dream was dreamed in unforgotten days. But who is this that hurries on before, A flitting shade the brooding shades among? She turned, I saw her […]...
23. Haunted Evening was in the wood, louring with storm. A time of drought had sucked the weedy pool And baked the channels; birds had done with song. Thirst was a dream of fountains in the moon, Or willow-music blown across the water Leisurely sliding on by weir and mill. Uneasy was the man who wandered, brooding, […]...
24. Days Of 1903 I never found them again the things so quickly lost…. The poetic eyes, the pale Face…. in the dusk of the street…. I never found them again the things acquired quite by chance, That I gave up so lightly; And that later in agony I wanted. The poetic eyes, the pale face, Those lips, I […]...
25. Never To Dream Of Spiders Time collapses between the lips of strangers My days collapse into a hollow tube Soon implodes against now Like an iron wall My eyes are blocked with rubble A smear of perspectives Blurring each horizon In the breathless precision of silence One word is made. Once the renegade flesh was gone Fall air lay against […]...
26. Autumn Begins In Martins Ferry, Ohio In the Shreve High football stadium, I think of Polacks nursing long beers in Tiltonsville, And gray faces of Negroes in the blast furnace at Benwood, And the ruptured night watchman of Wheeling Steel, Dreaming of heroes. All the proud fathers are ashamed to go home. Their women cluck like starved pullets, Dying for love. […]...
27. Not probable The barest Chance Not probable The barest Chance A smile too few a word too much And far from Heaven as the Rest The Soul so close on Paradise What if the Bird from journey far Confused by Sweets as Mortals are Forget the secret of His wing And perish but a Bough between Oh, Groping feet Oh […]...
28. Gangrene So often in the mid of night I wake me in my bed With utter panic of affright To find my feet are dead; And pace the floor to easy my pain And make them live again. The folks at home are so discreet; They see me walk and walk To keep the blood-flow in […]...
29. Clean Hands IT is something to face the sun and know you are free. To hold your head in the shafts of daylight slanting the earth And know your heart has kept a promise and the blood runs clean: It is something. To go one day of your life among all men with clean hands, Clean for […]...
30. Moth Collectors When our moggy brings in moths, she squeaks Through the kitchen, tips between her teeth, And scoots upstairs to scuff under the bed. If we find these blow-ins they’re usually dead Though a number dust the floor with tatty wings Or unfurl from sheets like pencil shavings, Furry woodcuts, a lime-green surprise – Still tremulous, […]...
31. My Father's Love Letters On Fridays he’d open a can of Jax After coming home from the mill, & ask me to write a letter to my mother Who sent postcards of desert flowers Taller than men. He would beg, Promising to never beat her Again. Somehow I was happy She had gone, & sometimes wanted To slip in […]...
32. Losses It was not dying: everybody died. It was not dying: we had died before In the routine crashes and our fields Called up the papers, wrote home to our folks, And the rates rose, all because of us. We died on the wrong page of the almanac, Scattered on mountains fifty miles away; Diving on […]...
33. Your Feet When I cannot look at your face I look at your feet. Your feet of arched bone, Your hard little feet. I know that they support you, And that your sweet weight Rises upon them. Your waist and your breasts, The doubled purple Of your nipples, The sockets of your eyes That have just flown […]...
34. Salome's Dancing-Lesson She that begs a little boon (Heel and toe! Heel and toe!) Little gets – and nothing, soon. (No, no, no! No, no, no!) She that calls for costly things Priceless finds her offerings- What’s impossible to kings? (Heel and toe! Heel and toe!) Kings are shaped as other men. (Step and turn! Step and […]...
35. Meeting Among the Mountains The little pansies by the road have turned Away their purple faces and their gold, And evening has taken all the bees from the thyme, And all the scent is shed away by the cold. Against the hard and pale blue evening sky The mountain’s new-dropped summer snow is clear Glistening in steadfast stillness: like […]...
36. Suzanne Brother Paul! look! -but he rushes to a different Window. The moon! I heard shrieks and thought: What’s that? That’s just Suzanne Talking to the moon! Pounding on the window With both fists: Paul! Paul! -and talking to the moon. Shrieking And pounding the glass With both fists! Brother Paul! the moon!...
37. The Travellers' Curse after Misdirection (from the Welsh) May they stumble, stage by stage On an endless Pilgrimage Dawn and dusk, mile after mile At each and every step a stile At each and every step withal May they catch their feet and fall At each and every fall they take May a bone within them break And may the […]...
38. The Passing Of The Year My glass is filled, my pipe is lit, My den is all a cosy glow; And snug before the fire I sit, And wait to feel the old year go. I dedicate to solemn thought Amid my too-unthinking days, This sober moment, sadly fraught With much of blame, with little praise. Old Year! upon the […]...
39. Song Unsung The song that I came to sing remains unsung to this day. I have spent my days in stringing and in unstringing my instrument. The time has not come true, the words have not been rightly set; Only there is the agony of wishing in my heart. The blossom has not opened; only the wind […]...
40. I did not reach Thee I did not reach Thee But my feet slip nearer every day Three Rivers and a Hill to cross One Desert and a Sea I shall not count the journey one When I am telling thee. Two deserts, but the Year is cold So that will help the sand One desert crossed The second one […]...