We must be slow and delicate; return <br />the policeman's stare with some esteem, <br />remember this is not a shadow play <br />of doves and geese but this is now <br />the time to write it down, record the words— <br />I mean we should have left some pride <br />of youth and not forget the destiny of men <br />who say goodbye to the wives and homes <br />they've read about at breakfast in a restaurant: <br />'My love.'—without regret or bitterness <br />obtain the measure of the stride we make, <br />the latest song has chosen a theme of love <br />delivering us from all evil—destroy. . . ? <br />why no. . . this too is fanciful. . . funny how <br />hard it is to be slow and delicate in this, <br />this thing of framing words to mark this grave <br />I mean nothing short of blood in every street <br />on earth can fitly voice the loss of these.<br /><br />Kenneth Patchen<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-generation-reading-the-newspapers/
