The Great
All the great men conquer
or burn their love with a harlot’s breath
and sleep forever in the ashes.
All the great women pine
or just beyond the edges of the song
deride the fame their husbands win.
All the great poets laugh
to watch dead heroes dance at their command
or learn restraint when they are past.
January 20th, 2007 at 8:25 am
I am glad to see that you are back to posting. You need to stop slacking.
August 19th, 2007 at 7:58 pm
[…] This week’s poem of the week is All the great men die from Andrew Nichols. An alternate version of this poem can be found here. […]