To clear the drifts of spring Of our forebear's excrements And bury the subconscious archives Under unaffected flowers Indeed- Our person is a covered entrance to infinity Choked with the tatters of tradition Goddesses and Young Gods Caress the sanctity of Adolescence In the shaft of the sun. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE TOURNAMENT by SIDNEY LANIER THE TOWER OF SKULLS by ISAAC ROSENBERG ISADORA DUNCAN DANCING 'IPHIGENIA IN AULIS' by LOUIS UNTERMEYER COMPLAINT by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS THE WANDERER: A ROCOCO STUDY (FIRST VERSION) by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS |