Assigned
a desk and an office
and his name on the door
for all to see:
James Watts, Social Worker,
secure,
and sitting before him
a dependent, aimless human being
Impulses hitherto encysted
and out of sight
like the beautiful great seed
of the avocado
gushed up
warm
overflowing
out to his shoulder blades.
What is your song,
compassion,
Dante to responsibility?
The sweet measure of man
Great vibrations and depths
from that knowledge and imperativ
though a hard grid,
as if a great muse had called,
greater than reality itself,
of trustworthy speech,
the muse of integrity:
I have a song to sing, O !
To which
(from a letter):
" All hope abandon ye
who enter here
your hospitable annex
on Bienville Street "
In the doorway the director.
" I'm George Selby, "
says he,
" I'm an official here. "

And I'm a seaman,
you crumb,
five notches above
any of you drifters.
I sailed up the Mississippi
when New Orleans was proud
of its merchant marine.

Yes, but you had your chance.
You failed.

Think what you like, Mr. Henk.
I must bear it.

Item:
one tall man
club-footed,
with blue eyes
and no assets.

No assets?
How do we know that?

By looking into these blue eyes, Mr. Henk.

Henk's eyes:
If we help him
he might blow it
on booze
He's a seaman.

A low blow, Mr. Henk.
Do what you want.
I can't stop you.
Rogan's eyes now to the fore:
He won't bare his soul.
How can we know
what we're dealing with?

Ouch!

R's eyes:

or how to help him?

What can you do, Miss Rogan?

So it ended.
I was sent to Algiers
with the other saps
to be rehabilitated by work
I remained what I am
(like Henk),
laughing and joking through it all

Henk is awright
Hick!
Selby is awright
Hick!
You too, Miss Rogan.
You're awright. "