Alfred Kreymborg

AMERICA

Up and down he goes

With terrible, reckless strides,

Flaunting great lamps

With joyous swings—

One to the East

And one to the West—

And flaunting two words

In a thunderous call

That thrills the hearts of all enemies:

All, One; All, One; All, One; All, One!

Beware that queer, wild, wonderful boy

And his playground—don’t go near!

All, One; All, One; All, One; All, One;

Up and down he goes.

OLD MANUSCRIPT

The sky

Is that beautiful old parchment

In which the sun

And the moon

Keep their diary.

To read it all,

One must be a linguist

More learned than Father Wisdom;

And a visionary

More clairvoyant than Mother Dream.

But to feel it,

One must be an apostle:

One who is more than intimate

152In having been, always,

The only confidant—

Like the earth

Or the sea.

CÉZANNE

Our door was shut to the noon-day heat.

We could not see him.

We might not have heard him either—

Resting, dozing, dreaming pleasantly.

But his step was tremendous—

Are mountains on the march?

He was no man who passed;

But a great faithful horse

Dragging a load

Up the hill.

PARASITE

Good woman:

Don’t love the man.

Love yourself,

As you have done so exquisitely before.

Like that tortoise-shell cat of yours

Washing away the flies; or are they fleas?

You’ve hurt him again?

Good!

Do it often.

No—

He’ll love you the more—

Always.

Remember how he forgave you the last time,

And how he loved you in the forgiving.

153Give him an adventure in godhood

And the higher moralities.

Hurt him again.

Fine!