ALL THE
WORKING PRINCES
Pencils always at the ready, these are
architects working at their tasks; throwing
stone and brick out of ancient seas.Today's
man knows nothing of this. From hemp to
coffee, we traverse these insincere ways. In
darkness I see the workmen walking to their
site, heavy with their lunch crates, funny, singing.
They talk, and all their ribald intentions are soon
taken away and I am left with nothing but the
holding of hands. Apache girl, Filipino Christian,
leftover lad - any of you, roll away the stone!
I want a new immortality! Marjorie Sunshine,
oh now please come to me!
-
Puzzles? Do you doubt me? I am here, on71st
Street, hailing now this jumbled cab. I notice things;
there, here, Saul bellow, Delmore Schwartz, Isaac
Singer - all those distant, writer friends, once
gone, are back again for one last blast. You see,
you see, I inhabit a land of the dead, and
all these men are still here at their tasks.
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