Found Words – Kenneth Patchen

Let us have madness openly. 

O men Of my generation. 

Let us follow 

The footsteps of this slaughtered age: 

See it trail across Time’s dim land 

Into the closed house of eternity 

With the noise that dying has, 

With the face that dead things wear– 

nor ever say 

We wanted more; we looked to find

An open door, an utter deed of love, 

Transforming day’s evil darkness; 

but We found extended hell and fog Upon the earth,

and within the head 

A rotting bog of lean huge graves. 


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