I met a man in South Street, tall
a nervous shark tooth swung on his chain.
His eyes pressed through green glass
green glasses, or bar lights made them
so
shine
GREEN
eyes
stepped outforgot to look at you
or left you several blocks away
in the nickel-in-the-slot piano jogged
Stamboul Nightsweaving somebodys nickelsang
O Stamboul Rosedreams weave the rose!
Murmurs of Leviathan he spoke,
and rum was Plato in our heads . . .
Its S.S. AlaAntwerpnow remember kid
to put me out at three she sails on time.
Im not much good at time any more keep
weakeyed watches sometimes snooze his bony hands
got to beating time . . . A whaler once
I ought to keep time and get over itIm a
DemocratI know what time it isNo
I dont want to know what time it isthat
damned white Arctic killed my time . . .
O Stamboul Rosedrums weave
I ran a donkey engine down there on the Canal
in Panamagot tired of that
then Yucatan selling kitchenwarebeads
have you seen Popocatepetlbirdless mouth
with ashes sifting down?
and then the coast again . . .
Rose of Stamboul O coral Queen
teased remnants of the skeletons of cities
and galleries, galleries of watergutted lava
snarling stonegreendrumsdrown
Sing!
that spiracle! he shot a finger out the door . . .
"O lifes a geyserbeautifulmy lungs
NoI cant live on land!"
I saw the frontiers gleaming of his mind;
or are there frontiersrunning sands sometimes
running sandssomewheresands running . . .
Or they may start some white machine that sings.
Then you may laugh and dance the axletree
steelsilverkick the tracesand know
ATLANTIS ROSE drums wreathe the rose,
the star floats burning in a gulf of tears
and sleep another thousand
interminably
long since somebodys nickelstopped
playing
A wind worried those wicker-neat lapels, the
swinging summer entrances to cooler hells . . .
Outside a wharf truck nearly ran him down
he lunged up Bowery way while the dawn
was putting the Statue of Liberty outthat
torch of hers you know
I started walking home across the Bridge . . .
. . . . .
Blithe Yankee vanities, turreted sprites, winged
British repartees, skil-
ful savage sea-girls
that bloomed in the springHeave, weave
those bright designs the trade winds drive . . .
Sweet opium and tea, Yo-ho!
Pennies for porpoises that bank the keel!
Fins whip the breeze around Japan!
Bright skysails ticketing the Line, wink round the Horn
to Frisco, Melbourne . . .
Pennants, parabolas
clipper dreams indelible and ranging,
baronial white on lucky blue!
Perennial-Cutty-trophied-Sark!
Thermopylae, Black Prince, Flying Cloud through Sunda
scarfed of foam, their bellies veered green esplanades,
locked in wind-humors, ran their eastings down;
at Java Head freshened the nip
(sweet opium and tea!)
and turned and left us on the lee . . .
Buntlines tusseling (91 days, 20 hours and anchored!)
Rainbow, Leander
(last trip a tragedy)where can you be
Nimbus? and you rivals two
a long tack keeping
Taeping?
Ariel?