ALL THAT KNOW
I am the brash man unrepentant, still banging
on the jailhouse doors. Not drunk, nor crazy,
just fired up past any legal point. I take my aim
and fire - other men and all their wives know
nothing of what I do. I speak and they hear not.
There is a like of the moment and a love of the
day, and everywhere there's a listlessness of
heeding. Well then, everywhere but here.
-
My hammer is the pedestal word, my mortar is
my meaning - take heed, you listless ones,
you fence-sitters stark and lazy - I have a
richness far surpassing the wisest men.
The hoards of banks are nothing to me.
All that money and all that gain -
just timid form I see.
-
Your monstrosities go unremarked - towers
and car-lots and weeded pails of clay and
mortar. I haven't words to waste upon your
patents, and want not any part of you.
No matter : fierce storms shall level your
plain and I, here, need do nothing.
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