Out of fiery contacts . . .
Rushing auras of steel
Touching and whirled apart . . .
Out of the charged phallases
Of iron leaping
Female and male,
Complete, indivisible, one,
Fused into light.
Wind rising in the alleys
My spirit lifts in you like a banner
Streaming free of hot walls.
You are full of unspent dreams . . .
You are laden with beginnings . . .
Come forth, you workers!
Let the fires go cold—
Let the iron spill out, out of the troughs—
Let the iron run wild
Like a red bramble on the floors—
Leave the mill and the foundry and the mine
And the shrapnel lying on the wharves—
Leave the desk and the shuttle and the loom—
I have known only my own shallows—
Safe, plumbed places,
Where I was wont to preen myself.
But for the abyss
I wanted a plank beneath
I was afraid of the silence
And the slipping toe-hold...