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Notes on a City (damn near any city)
11 February 1941
Along the street the eddy whirls With frowsy dames and sloppy girls And somber men and brazon boys Who stomp or trot; and it annoys (Period)
The crusty shops that cringe at sight And droop beside each other, quite As though their misery alone Would be too much; they would atone.
My reason tells me that it must Be true; the thoughtless crowds, the dust, The grimy walks, the littered streets; The facades pass for scrawny teats.
And yet I know it can not be; There is no grass, there is no tree, But only sound that rolls and beats And sanctioned murder in the streets.
While in his nest each merchant waits, As patiently his net he baits And views his neighbor with contempt, Though finding he is not exempt
From hatreds that swell from the needs Of human want; within the seeds Of lassez faire there are the germs That hold decay, and then the worms
Of avarice and greed and hate Sprout forth; they bore, they eat, they sate Their hunger on the scabs of men: I sit and watch. I sit and grin.
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