In Composition

Oh come, insipid muse, and lend your aid To my reluctant pen, that I may end Quickly this tiresome task, a chore to jade A far more willing heart than I do lend To it. We two must find that moment\u27s pause In time when did beget Mediocrity On plain Anonymity the formal cause Of my poor diatribe—child Apathy. With him, save callous fate, had ended all, But on a common afternoon did find In dandelion fields of early fall Innocuity our Apathy. His mind She did confound, and on that simple ground Began, though neither cared, the progeny Proliferous that now has spread all round To afflict mankind with their passivity

Monuments

T h e mines died forty years ago. T h e soft, brown coal was gutted from the earth And the cinder offal laid on the land - Red mountains of rust and cinder In the midst of fertile fields. Valleys have eroded the mountainsides, Baring twisted ribs of slag And bleeding into the soil

Springtime Comes, After

In the first year of peace, the springtime sun Shone long on a wintry scene, but naturally No one complained, and the winter\u27s heavy quiet Was wholly undisturbed..

Summer Night

It is better to be content with the copper chirp of crickets, The distant grind of trucks, Or the carved stillness of an empty room. It is better even to run; To board a train from the cracked brick platform, To close the night out and watch station lights Flicker roughly across the sleeping passengers..

Brotherhood

On the near south side The elevated runs down an alley, Sliding past small hotels With fire escapes climbing their sides. Through a chain link fence The sign says, Roomettes for Men