Life and Existence

Where can we live but days?

Marrying left your maiden name disused.

Marrying left your maiden name disused.

Never such innocence again.

Never such innocence again.

Why should I let the toad work Squat on my life? Can’t I use my wit as a pitchfork And drive the brute off?

Death has got something to be said for it: There’s no need to get out of bed for it; Wherever you may be, They bring it to you, free.

Black milk of daybreak we drink you at night we drink you at noon death is a master from Germany we drink you at sundown and in the morning we drink death is a master from Germany his eyes are blue… he sets his pack on to us he grants us a grave in the air he plays with the serpents and daydreams death is a master

The time cracks into furious flower. Lifts its face all unashamed. And sways in wicked grace.

We real cool. We Left school. We Lurk late. We Strike straight. We Sing sin. We Thin gin. We Jazz June. We Die soon.

We real cool. We Left school. We Lurk late. We Strike straight. We Sing sin. We Thin gin. We Jazz June. We Die soon.

Exhaust the little moment. Soon it dies. And be it gash or gold it will not come Again in this identical disguise.

Exhaust the little moment. Soon it dies. And be it gash or gold it will not come Again in this identical disguise.

And remembering… Remembering, with twinklings and twinges, As they lean over the beans in their rented back room that is full of beads and receipts and dolls and cloths, tobacco crumbs, vases and fringes.

Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Maud went to college. Sadie stayed at home. Sadie scraped life With a fine-tooth comb.

Time held me green and dying Though I sang in my chains like the sea.

Time held me green and dying Though I sang in my chains like the sea.

And honored among foxes and pheasants by the gay house Under the new-made clouds and happy as the heart was long, I ran my heedless ways.

And the sabbath rang slowly In the pebbles of the holy streams.

In the sun that is young once only, Golden in the mercy of his means.

Now as I was young and easy under the apple boughs About the lilting house and happy as the grass was green.

And honored among wagons I was prince of the apple towns.

Forgotten mornings when he walked with his mother Of sunlight And the legend of the green chapels.