Vol. 42 No. 2 1975 - page 254

The Lieutenant can hear it , the prayer
that comes on the voices of water , today
or yesterday , from Chicago or Valladolid ,
and hangs like smoke above this street
he won ' t walk as a man ever again ,
Frank Manley
GIANT SWINGS
Cette pensee, ce perfectionnement maten'e/, cette
harmonie, cette nuance particu/iere d 'amour,
' .
,je ne
puis croire que, dans leur chair, tis mourront comp/etement.
-Pierre Teilhard de Chardin
The whole thing has a ring of granite ,
a wall of granite around it like a magic circle
now , holding in the grey sides of my head ,
the eroding sand and the clay where the grass never
grew , under the high-pruned magnolias ,
the water oaks. , . And there it is summer.
The streetlights come on and boys still
gather thick as bugs and sing in the dark
like whippoorwills the same song over and over
in circles , going inside and outside themselves–
hanging in air like fish in the water
performing whatever crazy things our bodies
tell us
to ,
eyes popping with the strain ,
muscles twisted like rope , and the world slewing
around and around the bar in a giant swing-
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