The crowd at the ball game
is moved uniformly
by a spirit of uselessness
which delights them
all the exciting detail
of the chase
and the escape, the error
the flash of genius
all to no end save beauty
the eternal
So in detail they, the crowd,
are beautiful
for this
to be warned against
saluted and defied
It is alive, venomous
it smiles grimly
its words cut
The flashy female with her
mother, gets it
The Jew gets it straight it
is deadly, terrifying
It is the Inquisition, the
Revolution
It is beauty itself
that lives
day by day in them
idly
This is
the power of their faces
It is summer, it is the solstice
the crowd is
cheering, the crowd is laughing
in detail
permanently, seriously
without thought
