In a War on All Fronts
In a War on All Fronts (1943) Sickness is general in our time. Wounds we newly understand Fall on us, rise up from the ground. The fevers of confusion’s kiss Leap to confusion in the land And flame through our divided minds. Let me not die of this. Let me come through and live again To fight the war the world must win. The hurt child in the fascist street, The rain of clubs on Negro heads Demand more blood, cry for defeat. Cry for a day after defeat: Day of the world’s discovery For which we face an age [...]
