The group soul anguished drives up to the vane; Shivers over the clamant band, And tremulously sinks upon its padded seat, . . . With such a pleasant shiver of the bowels. (The first faint peristalt . . .) And a thin hunger somewhere. Beauty or woman; something not over-rare That will absorb the thrill, the gushing energic thrill. . . . We watch and smoke . . . our trembling hands That flutter for a space an arc of light With acrid trailing fume. . . . But oh . . . the hunger. . . . | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE HOUSE OF DUST: 1 by CONRAD AIKEN COMING DOWN TO THE DESERT AT LORDBURG, N.M. by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE WAY OF THE CONVENTICLE OF THE TREES by HAYDEN CARRUTH BRER RABBIT, YOU'S DE CUTES' OF 'EM ALL by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON IN A SWEDISH GRAVEYARD by EMMA LAZARUS A CERTAIN POET ON THE DEBATES by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |