I Am Learning To Abandon the World
I am learning to abandon the world
before it can abandon me.
Already I have given up the moon . . .
I am learning to abandon the world
before it can abandon me.
Already I have given up the moon . . .
I am offering this poem to you,
since I have nothing else to give.
Keep it like a warm coat . . .
I am the people—the mob—the crowd—the mass.
Do you know that all the great work of the world is done through me?
I am the workingman, the inventor, the maker of the world’s food and clothes. . . .
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done . . .
I close my eyes like a good little boy at night in bed,
as I was told to do by my mother when she lived,
and before bed I brush my teeth and slip on my pajamas, . . .
I dreamed that I was old: in stale declension
Fallen from my prime, when company
Was mine, cat-nimbleness, and green invention, . . .
I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,
And Mourners to and fro
Kept treading - treading - till it seemed . . .
I find no peace, and all my war is done.
I fear and hope. I burn and freeze like ice.
I fly above the wind, yet can I not arise; . . .
The dove-white gulls
on the wet lawn in Washington Square
in the early morning fog . . .
I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear,
Those of mechanics, each one singing his as it should be blithe and strong,
The carpenter singing his as he measures his plank or beam, . . .