..
Why does she come alone to this obscure basement--
She who should have a litter and hand-maidens to support her
on either side?
She ascends the stairway, and the waiters turn to look at her,
spilling the soup.
The black satin dress is a little lifted, showing the dropsical legs
in their silken fleshings...
The mountainous breasts tremble...
There is an agitation in her gems,
That quiver incessantly, emitting trillions of fiery rays...
She erupts explosive breaths...
Every step is an adventure
From this...
The serpent's tooth
Saved Cleopatra.
SUBMERGED
I have known only my own shallows--
Safe, plumbed places,
Where I was wont to preen myself.
But for the abyss
I wanted a plank beneath
And horizons...
I was afraid of the silence
And the slipping toe-hold...
Oh, could I now dive
Into the unexplored deeps of me--
Delve and bring up and give
All that is submerged, encased, unfolded,
That is yet the best.
ART AND LIFE
When Art goes bounding, lean,
Up hill-tops fired green
To pluck a rose for life.
Life like a broody hen
Cluck-clucks him back again.
But when Art, imbecile,
Sits old and chill
On sidings shaven clean,
And counts his clustering
Dead daisies on a string
With witless laughter....
Then like a new Jill
Toiling up a hill
Life scrambles after.
BROOKLYN BRIDGE
Pythoness body--arching
Over the night like an ecstasy--
I feel your coils tightening.
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