Tuesday, February 21, 2006

More Sandburg, Damnit. Yes.


I asked professors who teach the meaning of life to tell me what is happiness.
And I went to famous executives who boss the work of thousands of men.
They all shook their heads and gave me a smile as though I was trying to fool with them.
And then one Sunday afternoon I wandered out along the Desplaines river
And I saw a crowd of Hungarians under the trees with their women and children and a keg of beer and an accordion.


Fish Crier

I know a Jew fish crier down on Maxwell Street with a voice like a north wind blowing over corn stubble in January.

He Dangles herring before prospective customers evincing a joy identical with that of Pavlowa dancing.
His face is that of a man terribly glad to be selling fish, terribly glad that God made fish, and customers to whom he may call his wares from a pushcart.

From The Oxford Book of American Verse.

No comments: