Poor old Abner, poor old white-haired nigger! I remember when you were so strong you hung yourself by a rope round the neck in Doc Hollister's barn to prove you could beat the faker in the circus -- and it didn't kill you. Now your face is in your hands, and your elbows are on your knees, and you are silent and broken. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONTRA MORTEM: THE WHEEL OF BEING I by HAYDEN CARRUTH I COULD TAKE by HAYDEN CARRUTH ON BEING ASKED TO WRITE A POEM AGAINST THE WAR IN VIETNAM by HAYDEN CARRUTH TO JOHN BROWN by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SURFACES AND MASKS; 4 by CLARENCE MAJOR DOMESDAY BOOK: DR. BURKE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS DOMESDAY BOOK: THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |