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He could not look, but did, And saw a smear, like egg, on the ragged panel wiped. It was his other eye, which last had looked In seeing his engine die from a vibrant disk To four great innocent sails. Through his own incredible sternness Ofpain, he heard the sirens flare On the gunned dust ofthe strip, And motes from the stacks ofsugar whirled And unsupported slept upon the air, beside his props Like petals carved from offthe basined floor. A tooth lodged in his throat. He did not speak ofit, but a loft ofchildren In the light he had let in Were standing and piping. He could not sing with them, And almost wept, but like a child, forgot, And wandered, lost, among their faces, Opening the bags, tasting the slanted sugar as he would. The LiberatorExplodes There, in the order oftraffic Ofaircraft. Where one ofthem once Was moving, in a clumsy hover, It is like a blow through the sky That does not move. Why would you watch it Before it becomes offire? There are many arranged on the air. This one you might be watching, Held in a fear That contains no fear, but boredom, or fascination, As it turns on the final approach. Or you might be watching another That does not fall. The Liberator Explodes / 5 Ifit is this one, you see For an instant, nothing special. It is hanging down As it would, the big wheels not spinning, And now are fire: One shot, a great one, By accident takes place where the plane is: The plane was. All ofit is gone Save the part that goes in on one wing, There, offthe end ofthe runway. Then comes the shape Ofa silence made ofan army In one breath all watching wildly. Things move out, and toward Where it must have come down There, offthe end ofthe runway, Still alive with a little offire. Here is the purest offact That took place like the purest ofsymbols. The mind fires over and over An aircraft that has blown away distance, But cannot fetch that fact, Or remember or know or imagine What the faces ofthose must have felt There in the briefshot oflight, And so must lie down again, and again, Below the ground moved by palm-leaves Ofthe mind ofthat time, and let that fade, And lie in the luck ofsalvation In the cities, In the suburbs oftime, until There cracks across the simplest ofthe mind's Eyes, that purchase ofterror on the air, The burst oflight within flame, Magnificent, final, and you behold your own Unmirrored face freely explode, And face, beyond faces, Your brother ofparallel fire. Summons / 6 ...


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MARC Record
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