he leaps the rooftops toward no granary.
Lashed by acerb winds he spins
to point the way. But men are heedless.
Old Bug, you remind me of someone,
like you above a city raised
to seem far larger than alive.
You're not the only one that's placed
on such an eminence. And if
fewer follow your globe-eyed gaze now
than when this harbor was spined with masts,
I'll tell you bluntly, you're not first
nor last to point out true unfollowed ways.
John Logan
CONTAGIOUS WARD
Having only just begun to work
Here I agreed without assent
To feed the old blind man who face
To the wall lay quiet there giving
The covers no form his own. A head
Black and bald and broken in spots by goat's
Curled hair was said to be his.
I approached it, spoke thru my mask. It grunted,
Turned, and the body with a slow ugly movement
Swung its bark-covered legs out
Of dirty sheets and sat up some.
I touched his arm to offer support and felt
The muscle soft as a frog's white belly.
I did not allow myself to smell the old
