SADLY THEY PERISH
30
(A Dirge for the Objectivist Poets)
now in the perfumed dusk,
a pause
the phosphoroscent worms emerge
like vacant, jangling trolleycars ..
a purblind peace,
the gentry of the bourgeoisie
squirm into purple space.
5 years: the ivory towers crack,
the walls are eaten with decay.
the eliots, the ezra pounds
play jazztunes of profound regrets
in hideouts of expatriates . . .
"this is coming to you by remote control."
the sacred muse, an anxious cockroach, darts
here and there along the floor....
"oh death, where is thy sting?"
a rain of shrapnel in the streets:
clubs, teargas, speeches, bayonets,
the castor oil, the rubber hose,
the raids, the lynchings, pogroms, wars ..
but butterflies have gauzy wings;
blue buzzards roost on empire-state.
confused, confused,
the images awry
like sappy roosevelt grillS
111
cOlley-island twisted mIrrors;
some little fanfare for the weird esthetic guy
then shrugs and sneers,
applause that gutters to a hiss .
prince hamlet scrapes a violin,
wears rubber heels:
absorb the shocks that tire you out . . .
