The Other Side of This World
Put my glad rags in a cardboard box—
This old jiggerboo never grew mature.
Is everthing in its place except me? . . .
Put my glad rags in a cardboard box—
This old jiggerboo never grew mature.
Is everthing in its place except me? . . .
I try to make myself afraid,
the way you must have been afraid,
stepping out onto this stage— . . .
So sexy to slide under-
neath a river,
to sit inside this
. . .
I
Oh chimes set high on the sunny tower . . .
Downhill I came, hungry, and yet not starved;
Cold, yet had heat within me that was proof
Against the North wind; tired, yet so that rest . . .
In October of the year,
he counts potatoes dug from the brown field,
counting the seed, counting . . .
I met a traveller from an antique land,
Who said—“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand, . . .