April 25, 2007

  • The Daily News


    Joe the Bear keepin’ it real.



      

    Chaplinesque

    We will make our meek adjustments,
    Contented with such random consolations
    As the wind deposits
    In slithered and too ample pockets.

    For we can still love the world, who find
    A famished kitten on the step, and know
    Recesses for it from the fury of the street,
    Or warm torn elbow coverts.

    We will sidestep, and to the final smirk
    Dally the doom of that inevitable thumb
    That slowly chafes its puckered index toward us,
    Facing the dull squint with what innocence
    And what surprise!

    And yet these fine collapses are not lies
    More than the pirouettes of any pliant cane;
    Our obsequies are, in a way, no enterprise.
    We can evade you, and all else but the heart:
    What blame to us if the heart live on.

    The game enforces smirks; but we have seen
    The moon in lonely alleys make
    A grail of laughter of an empty ash can,
    And through all sound of gaiety and quest
    Have heard a kitten in the wilderness.
                                                  
                                                                                         –Hart Crane


    Peace.


    ~H~

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