The Naked Land in  General   

A beast stands at my eye.

I cook my senses in a dark fire.
The old wombs rot and the new mother
Approaches with the footsteps of a world.

Who are the people of this unscaled heaven?
What beckons?
Whose blood hallows this grim land?
What slithers along the watershed of my human sleep?

The other side of knowing ...
Caress of unwaking delight ... O start
A sufficient love! O gently silent forms
Of the last spaces.

By Kenneth Patchen

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Other poems by Kenneth Patchen:

• As We Are So Wonderfully Done With Each Other
• Creation
• Fall of the Evening Star
• In the footsteps of the walking air
• Let Us Have Madness
• Pastoral
• Saturday Night in the Parthenon
• The Naked Land
• The Orange Bears
• The Slums
• The Temple
• There Are Not Many Kingdoms Left
• We Go Out Together In the Staring Town
• When We Were Here Together