(Easter 1916) Censored lies that mimic truth’€¦ Censored truth as pale as fear’€¦ My heart is like a rousing bell - And but the dead to hear’€¦

Will you feast with me, American… But what have I that shall seem g… On my board are bitter apples And honey served on thorns, And in my flagons fluid iron,

Last night I watched a star fall like a great… Till my ego expanding encompassed… Containing both as in a trembling…

Undulant rustlings, Of oncoming silk, Rhythmic, incessant, Like the motion of leaves… Fragments of color

Aren’t there bigger things to talk… Than a window in Greenwich Villag… And hyacinths sprouting Like little puce poems out of a si… Some cosmic hearsay—

Old plant of Asia - Mutilated vine Holding earth’s leaping sap In every stem and shoot That lopped off, sprouts again -

Skyscrapers... remote, unpartisan.… Turning neither to the right nor l… Your imperturbable fronts.... Austerely greeting the sun With one chilly finger of stone...…

Cool, inaccessible air Is floating in velvety blackness s… But no breath stirs the heat Leaning its ponderous bulk upon th… And most on Hester street…

Cherry, cherry, glowing on the hearth, bright red cherry... When you try to pick up cherry Celia’s shriek

A spring wind on the Bowery, Blowing the fluff of night shelter… Off bedraggled garments, And agitating the gutters, that ej… Like lewd growths.

Do you remember Honey-melon moon Dripping thick sweet light Where Canal Street saunters off b… And the faint decayed patchouli—

Was there a wind? Tap... tap... Night pads upon the snow with moccasined feet... and it is still... so still... an eagle's feather might fall like a stone. Could there have been a storm...

You can see the sandhills from our… Butterflies live in the sandhills and lizards and centipedes.

We are old, Old as song. Before Rome was Or Cyrene. Mad nights knew us