Classic Poem

1

Daughter of music
and her sweet son
so that none rule
the dew to his own hurt
with the year’s last sigh
awake
the starry sky and bird.

2

I shall go back to my mother’s grave after this war
Because there are those who still speak of loyalty
In the outskirts of Baltimore
Or wherever Jews are not the right sort of people,
And say to her one of the dead I speak to-
There are less Jews left in the world
While they were killed
I did not see you in a dream to tell you
And that I now have a wife and son

Then I shall go and write of my country
Have a job all my life
Seldom write with grace again, be part of the world,
See every man in forced labor
Dawn only where suburbs are restricted
To people who take trains every morning,
Never the gentleness that can be
The hope of the common man, the eyes that love leaves
Any shade, thought or thing, that makes all man uncommon,

But always the depraved bark
Fight or work,
Dawn the red poster, the advertiser’s cock crow,
Sunset a lack of wonder, the lone winged foot of Mercury in tie with a tire,
The fashion model
Her train stopped in the railway cut
Looking up to a billboard of herself
As she goes home to her small son asleep,

So early and so late in the small fortunes that followed me from my mother’s grave
A lovely air follows her
And the dead President who is worth it:
“Dear death, like peace, I end not speaking,
The chitchat has died
And the last smile is unwilled
I am dead, I can’t talk
To Blossoms or spring in the world.”

3

....... “Because he was crying
I like him most of all, ” says my son
“Because he was crying, ” -the red fox
With three porcupine quills in his paw -
Who brings tears to the eyes, button nose against shambles,
Valentines all day, all night, tomorrow
The simplest the keyboard can play,
“Pony gay, on your way, ” love’s hair
With two gray, Papa Bear’s Song new to renew
“Who’s been sitting in my chair? ”