"Arsiero, Asiago…"

Arsiero, Asiago,

    Half a hundred more,

Little border villages,

    Back before the war,

Monte Grappa, Monte Corno,

    Twice a dozen such,

In the piping times of peace

    Didn't come to much.

D'Annunzio

Half a million dead wops

And he got a kick out of it

The son of a bitch.

I'm Off'n Wild Wimmen

I'm off'n wild wimmen

An Cognac

An Sinnin'

For I'm in loOOOOOOOve.

Neo-Thomist Poem

              The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not

                  want him for long.

Notes1] Hemingway attaches this note to the title: "The title `Neo-Thomist Poem' refers to temporary embracing of church by literary gents -- E. H." Possibly this alludes to T. S. (Tom) Eliot.The poem parodies Psalm 23, which begins (verses 1-3): The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want; he makes me to lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters; he restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake.

To Crazy Christian

There was a cat named Crazy Christian

Who never lived long enough to screw

He was gay hearted, young and handsome

And all the secrets of life he knew

He would always arrive on time for breakfast

Scamper on your feet and chase the ball

He was faster than any polo pony

He never worried a minute at all

Shock Troops

Men went happily to death

But they were not the men

Who marched

For years

Up to the line.

These rode a few times

And were gone

Leaving a heritage of obscene song.

Roosevelt

Workingmen believed

He busted trusts,

And put his picture in their windows.

"What he'd have done in France!"

They said.

Perhaps he would--

He could have died

Perhaps,

Poetry

So now,

Losing the three last night,

Takeing them back today,

Dripping and dark the woods . . .

Valentine

If my Valentine you won't be,

I'll hang myself on your Christmas tree.

Written 14th February 1956

Killed Paive--July 8--1918

Desire and

All the sweet pulsing aches

And gentle hurtings

That were you,

Are gone into the sullen dark.

Now in the night you come unsmiling

To lie with me

A dull, cold, rigid bayonet

"All armies are the same "

All armies are the same

Publicity is fame

Artillery makes the same old noise

Valor is an attribute of boys

Old soldiers all have tired eyes

All soldiers hear the same old lies

Dead bodies always have drawn flies

Chapter Heading

For we have thought the larger thoughts

    And gone the shorter way.

And we have danced to devil's tunes,

    Shivering home to pray;

To serve one master in the night,

    Another in the day.