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Edgar Lee Masters - Ralph Rhodes
Work rating: Low

All they said was true:
I wrecked my father`s bank with my loans
To dabble in wheat; but this was true —
I was buying wheat for him as well,
Who couldn`t margin the deal in his name
Because of his church relationship.
And while George Reece was serving his term
I chased the will-o`-the-wisp of women,
And the mockery of wine in New York.
It`s deathly to sicken of wine and women
When nothing else is left in life.
But suppose your head is gray, and bowed
On a table covered with acrid stubs
Of cigarettes and empty glasses,
And a knock is heard, and you know it`s the knock
So long drowned out by popping corks
And the pea-cock screams of demireps —
And you look up, and there`s your Theft,
Who waited until your head was gray,
And your heart skipped beats to say to you:
The game is ended. I`ve called for you.
Go out on Broadway and be run over,
They`ll ship you back to Spoon River.
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