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r Find in their arms Only the darkness. FROM A MAN DYING ON A CROSS The pains in my palms are threads of sightless fire Drawn like fiery veins through blackened marble walls, Crashing with a dull roar To the ends of the earth. Winey peace.... My sick blood purrs. Milky bosoms float through red hair, Gaunt faces and sick eyes Beside her face. I debauch them with my forgiveness. Only her, I cannot forgive. Moonlight trembles as the silk of her garment, Perfumed silk. The cross makes a long harsh shadow Rigid on the sand. Her white feet stir across the shadow. LAGNIAPPE You in the quiet garden, You with the death sweet smile, Before you speak of love to me Go out and hate awhile. The kind devil Has a tolerant grin. He flings the golden gates out wide And lets poor people in. He warms them in his bosom And guards their pain. He shows them hell fields that are bright And skies gentle with rain. But up in paradise The stern Lord is wise, And Michael with his flaming sword Puts out the angels' eyes. HAIL MARY! Pierrette is dead! Between her narrow little breasts They have laid a cross of lead. Her tight pale lips are sunken. Her fleshless fingers clutch the pall. Why did she have to die like that, And she so small? THE DEATH OF COLUMBINE White breast beaten in sea waves, Hair tangled in foam, Lonely sky, Desolate horizon, Pale and shining clouds: All this desolate and shining sea is no place for you, My dead Columbine. And the waves will bite your breast; And the wind, that does not know death from life, Will leap upon you and leer into your eyes And suck at your dead lips. Oh, my little Columbine, You go farther and farther away from me, Out where there are no ships And the solemn clouds Soar across the somber horizon. PIERROT LAUGHS You are old, Pierrot, But I do not laugh As in harlequinade You totter down the path. Now you are old, Pierrot, And drool to your guitar, I do not cast you off. Though your love songs are as feeble as a winter fly's I do not scoff. Exultant I cast back on you What you gave me, And bind you with the unasked love That has kept me from being free! THE TRANSMIGRATION OF CALIBAN Once I had a little brother, An ugly little brother that was I. I was still in the nurser
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