Two narrow files of houses scowl, Blackened with grime, on either side Of the road, and through them prowl Strange men and women, shifty-eyed And slinking. The drink-shop throws A flaring yellow, light adown The pavement. The gutter flows A turbid evil stream. A clown, Drink-sodden, lurches by and sings Obscenely. A woman trails behind, With old bad eyes. Her clothing clings Rain-soaked about her. No daring wind, Light-hearted, from a garden blows The sweetness here of any rose. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BRIDGE BUILDER by WILL ALLEN DROMGOOLE ON THE BUILDING OF SPRINGFIELD by NICHOLAS VACHEL LINDSAY THE ANGEL IN THE HOUSE: BOOK 1. CANTO 2. PRELUDE: LOVE AT LARGE by COVENTRY KERSEY DIGHTON PATMORE MOLLY PITCHER [JUNE 28, 1778] by LAURA ELIZABETH HOWE RICHARDS A PIPER by JAMES SULLIVAN STARKEY A DIGIT OF THE MOON by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT IN VINCULIS; SONNETS WRITTEN IN AN IRISH PRISON: DEEDS MIGHT HAVE BEEN by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |