On the Death of an Opossum

Noble liar, thy lie at last

Has come home to thee!

Thou couldst not long

Trick the trickster, Death

(Thy fate as well as mine,

The finger of almighty God

Crooked to claim thee).

This at least I can say for thee,

That death has scarcely made

Thee smell the worse, though,

Indeed, thou art now the more

Pungent since breath has left

Thy lungs (Lord, he stinketh),

But only by the thousandth part.

But, heart, dear Opossum!

This little dignity

Death has granted thee,

That thou art to me

Now an inconveniency.

I, who hated thee and thy kind

(Threadbare rats! with ragged tail),

Find thee in my way and on my mind,

Dead beside the safety rail—

And gladly leave thee behind.

Musik Macht Traurig

I went walking through

these halls like Jeremiah

in Jerusalem. This roof

will be my temple, this

stream shall be the Jordan.

The banks I will name

Mamre, though there is

here no oak (to my dismay).

How can I sing the

Lord’s song without

the choir?

Let crickets be the choir,
let there be an assembly
of stones. Exiles cannot
ask for better.

Only—my God!—let there

be a sound of thunder

and a smell of pine,

a smell of pine and

the cold salt of the sea.

The Profit and Loss

The telling of stories

now is out of fashion,

more’s the pity.

How tempting, how easy

it would be (I say in

my coward heart) to be

a prophet of the light,

herald to the sun!

Peace to the people, one could

say—even if there is no

peace. (Is there some

tincture in this tired air?

I did not mean to speak the truth.)

Peace to the people,

even peace!, and not

a voice among voices,

an uncut stone,

and blood from the mouth

and the taste

of blood

in the teeth

To California then I came,

drowning, drying—

the land of fruits and

nuts, they say with a

smirk (the despite of

ignorance being, with me

as with others, the besetting

sin). To California then I

came and sought purchase

in the sand.

I have suffered some

unlooked for revolt

of self from self, a

victory of kidney

over brain. (Some

things are too slight

for speaking, even in

the splendid silence

the pen is heir to.)

Miserere: miserere mei,

miserere nobis. (Most

merciful Father.)

Herr,

Segne dieses Haus

Und alle, die da gehen

Ein und aus.

His the kingdom (Amen),

His the power (Amen),

His the glory (Amen),

Forever and ever.

Amen, amen, and amen.

SDG

AMDG