The sea and a crescent strip of beach <br />Show between the service station and a deserted shack <br /> <br /> <br />A creek drains thru the beach <br />Forming a ditch <br />There is a discarded super-market cart in the ditch <br />That beach is the edge of a nation <br /> <br /> <br />There is something like shouting along the highway <br />A California shouting <br />On the long fast highway over the California mountains <br /> <br /> <br />Point Pedro <br />Its distant life <br /> <br /> <br />It is impossible the world should be either good or bad <br />If its colors are beautiful or if they are not beautiful <br />If parts of it taste good or if no parts of it taste good <br />It is as remarkable in one case as the other <br />As against this <br /> <br /> <br />We have suffered fear, we know something of fear <br />And of humiliation mounting to horror <br /> <br /> <br />The world above the edge of the foxhole belongs to the flying bullets, leaden superbeings <br />For the men grovelling in the foxhole danger, danger in being drawn to them <br /> <br /> <br />These little dumps <br />The poem is about them <br /> <br /> <br />Our hearts are twisted <br />In dead men’s pride <br /> <br /> <br />Dead men crowd us <br />Lean over us <br /> <br /> <br />In the emplacements <br /> <br /> <br />The skull spins <br />Empty of subject <br /> <br /> <br />The hollow ego <br /> <br /> <br />Flinching from the war’s huge air <br /> <br /> <br />Tho we are delivery boys and bartenders <br /> <br /> <br />We will choke on each other <br /> <br /> <br />Minds may crack <br /> <br /> <br />But not for what is discovered <br /> <br /> <br />Unless that everyone knew <br />And kept silent <br /> <br /> <br />Our minds are split <br />To seek the danger out <br /> <br /> <br />From among the miserable soldiers<br /><br />George Oppen<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/and-their-winter-and-night-in-disguise/
