Foreign sailors in the streets
Are as sad a sight as wild geese in the winter—
There was one boy with those strange young blue eyes
Who looked at me;
And a long, long time after he had passed
The light of his soul got to me—
So long on the way—
Like the light of a dead star.
What makes you look so lonesome, Blue Eyes?
THE COMING OF CHRIST
THE DEATH OF COLUMBINE
DUET
Pierrot sings.
The moon, a clown like himself,
Stares down upon him
With vacuous tenderness.
For a moment the night is filled with rice powder
And spangled gauze.
Then two shades embracing each other
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.