here they come grey and beastly rubbing out the night with their bloodred torches, Numbo! they scream, Hail Numbo! and grocer John gets down on the floor and hugs his precious eggs and sausage, and the bats of Babe Ruth get up and strut their averages around a dark bar, and the grey blonde in bed with me asks "what's all the noise?" and I say, "the world is coming to an end." and we sit in the window and watch, strangely happy. We have 14 cigarettes and a bottle of wine. enough to last until they find us. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SHE WEEPS OVER RAHOON by JAMES JOYCE IRELAND; WRITTEN FOR THE ART AUTOGRAPH DURING IRISH FAMINE by SIDNEY LANIER WINTER SONG by KATHERINE MANSFIELD DOMESDAY BOOK: GOTTLIEB GERALD by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |