Page:American Poetry 1922.djvu/59

 the whinny and the howl up Pennsylvania Avenue: who? why? where?)

(So people far from the asphalt footing of Pennsylvania   Avenue look, wonder, mumble—the riding white-jaw    phantoms ride hi-eeee, hi-eeee, hi-yi, hi-yi, hi-eeee—    the proclamations of the honorable orators mix with the    top-sergeants whistling the roll call.)

If when the clockticks counted sixty, when the heartbeats of the Republic came to a stop for a minute, if the Boy had happened to sit up, happening to sit up as Lazarus sat up, in the story, then the first shivering language to drip off his mouth might have come as, "Thank God," or "Am I dreaming?" or "What the hell" or "When do we eat?" or "Kill 'em, kill 'em, the...." or "Was that ... a rat ... ran over my face?" or "For Christ's sake, gimme water, gimme water," or "Blub blub, bloo bloo.... ..." or any bubbles of shell shock gibberish from the gashes of No Man's Land.

Maybe some buddy knows, some sister, mother, sweetheart, maybe some girl who sat with him once when a two-horn silver moon 45