Away, my songs, must we go
And I would like
More beautiful than anything in this world.
Stars, the last day, endless and centerless,
giddy as good kids playing hookey. Now,
The earth beneath his feet, in its dark cape,
End of the comedy.
Covering the land—
and the numbed yards will go back undercover.
their bellies, they're out cold, instantaneously
for a few weeks, statistics won't seem
Dismal, endless plain—
More beautiful than anything in this world.
Bronze the sky, with no
giddy as good kids playing hookey. Now,
XIX. Jones Sound and Beaufort Sea
Is it almost honey, is it snow?
In the dread circle hemmed by glaciers,
By trees—or might see as the masonry
And I would like
More beautiful than anything in this world.
Stars, the last day, endless and centerless,
giddy as good kids playing hookey. Now,
The earth beneath his feet, in its dark cape,
End of the comedy.
Covering the land—
and the numbed yards will go back undercover.
their bellies, they're out cold, instantaneously
for a few weeks, statistics won't seem
Dismal, endless plain—
More beautiful than anything in this world.
Bronze the sky, with no
giddy as good kids playing hookey. Now,
XIX. Jones Sound and Beaufort Sea
Is it almost honey, is it snow?
In the dread circle hemmed by glaciers,
By trees—or might see as the masonry
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