I.
The crack is moving down the wall.
Defective plaster isn't all the cause.
We must remain until the roof falls in.
It's mildly cheering to recall
That every building has its little flaws.
The crack is moving down the wall.
Here in the kitchen, drinking gin,
We can accept the damndest laws.
We must remain until the roof falls in.
And though there's no one here at all,
One searches every room because
The crack is moving down the wall.
Repairs? But how can one begin?
The lease has warnings buried in each clause.
We must remain until the roof falls in.
These nights one hears a creaking in the hall,
The sort of thing that gives one pause.
The crack is moving down the wall.
We must remain until the roof falls in.
II.
Men we once honored share a crooked eye.
We can do nothing more than morn.
The girls we loved will marry them, and die.
Was it the age that they were ruined by?
Was there no prophet who could warn?
Men we once honored share a crooked eye.
Their wells are poisoned, choked with mud, or dry.
There is a weakness even in their scorn.
The girls we loved will marry them, and die.
There is a pattern to the way they cry,
Cursing the special hour they were born.
Men we once honored share a crooked eye.
They speak of honor, yet they lie:
All their certificates of truth are torn.
The girls we loved will marry them and die.
Their promise fades like powder in the sky,
Their fanfares issue from a sour horn.
Men we once honored share a crooked eye;
The girls we loved will marry them, and die.
III. A Villanelle for the Publisher Who Rejected –––'s Book
Stiffen your features at anything new:
Of all the things you do, you do that best.
From your snug vantage point I scarcely like the view.
You have a way of saying, "True,
But what of readers in the West?"
Stiffen your features at anything new.
"Among the public," you will say, "so few
Would welcome just the attitude he's stressed."
From your snug vantage point I scarcely like the view.
"We're liberal here, we welcome every hue,
But not the strange, unfashionable, or the obsessed."
Stiffen your features at anything new.
"I turned down Joyce myself. It was the thing to do.
He, like so many these days, just befouled his nest."
From your snug vantage point I scarcely like the view.
So, for your services to all that's shoddy and untrue,
I gladly pin this dime-store medal on your chest.
Stiffen your features at anything new.
From your snug vantage point I scarcely like the view.
IV.
No sound except the beating of a drum
Is heard along this walled-in corridor.
"Time will go by" we heard; "no messages will come."
The guests seem sad without their opium.
They stare at me and talk about the war.
There is no sound except the beating of a drum.
They want a different noise; like me, they thumb
Through heavy books we keep behind the door.
"Time will go by," we heard; "no messages will come."
Noise with complexity, however glum,
Might give some clue to what there is in store,
But there's no sound except the beating of a drum.
A few wear beards, or sleep all day, while some
Have grown quite philosophical. Some pace the floor.
"Time will go by," we heard; "no messages will come."
I think it is our hearts. Each paralyzed and numb
With waiting. Yet what is it we are waiting for?
No sound except the beating of a drum?
"Time will go by," we heard. "No messages will come."
V.
We had a notion it was dawn,
But it was only torches on the height.
The truce was signed, but the attack goes on.
The major fell down on the blackened lawn
And cried like a fool; his face was white.
We had the notion it was dawn.
On a bombed wall someone had drawn
A picture of a nude hermaphrodite.
The truce was signed, but the attack goes on.
Our food was rotten, all our water gone.
We had penicillin and dynamite,
And had the notion it was dawn
Because a cold gleam, fitful, gray, and wan,
Held for a moment in the signal's light.
The truce was signed, but the attack goes on.
We helped to choose these fields we crawl upon.
Sired in caskets, born to die at night,
We had the notion it was dawn.
The truce was signed, but the attack goes on.
