Across the tracks in Cheyenne, behind the biggest billboard, Are a couple of human beings who aren't in for the Rodeo. A week out of Sacramento, Jack, who was once a choir boy, And Judy, a jail-bird's daughter, make love against the cold. He gets the night freight for Denver. She hitches out for Billings. But now under one blanket they go about their business. @3Suppose you go about yours@1. Their business is being human, And because they travel naked they are fifty jumps ahead of you And running with all their lights on while half the world is blacked out. Poverty of all but spirit turns up love like aces That weren't in the deck at all. Meanwhile the cold Is scattered like petals of flowers down from the mountains of exile And makes comradeship essential, though perhaps you choose not to believe it. That doesn't matter at all, for their hands touching deny you, Becoming, poor blinded beggars, pilgrims on the road to heaven. Back in the Park, at the best hotel, it is true The mountains are higher, and the food oftener, and love As phony as a nine-dollar bill. Though perhaps When the millionaire kisses the Princess farewell (he's going nowhere) She weeps attractively in the expensive dark, moving -- O delicately -- among the broken hearts, perhaps haunted, Wondering if hers is among them. Or perhaps not. Used with the permission of Copper Canyon Press, P.O. Box 271, Port Townsend, WA 98368-0271, www.cc.press.org | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DARK-EYED GENTLEMAN by THOMAS HARDY LUCIFER IN STARLIGHT by GEORGE MEREDITH LULLABY IN BETHLEHEM by HENRY HOWARTH BASHFORD THE MUSIC-LESSON by MATHILDE BLIND AT THE FARRAGUT STATUE by ROBERT BRIDGES (1858-1941) TO A WREATH OF SNOW by EMILY JANE BRONTE |