Fall 1964 • Vol. XXVI No. 4 PoetryOctober 1, 1964 |

The Pioneer

In the beginning I said "yes" all the time To the emotional coyotes, the snide relations, The fast women and the slow horses, But this was before the valley settled Or the plain filled with sheepish neighbors. But one day when the wells ran dry And the girl down the road begged for sugar, I started saying "no" and grew a red beard. I've said "no" ever since, even on Sundays When one hears the shock, the churchly gasp Of disavowal, though now my beard is gray; Now the habit goes down with my coffee. So the girl who lacked sugar lies in her bed Waiting for white rain, for "yesses" to bud, For the bull to crash her gate and charge.

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Die Stimme

By Lawrence P. Spingarn

In the beginning I said "yes" all the time To the emotional coyotes, the snide relations, The fast women and the slow horses, But this was before the valley settled […]

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