Verse > Anthologies > Alfred Kreymborg, ed. > Others for 1919
Alfred Kreymborg, ed.  Others for 1919.  1920.
The Dead
By Mina Loy
WE have flowed out of ourselves
Beginning on the outside
That shrivvable skin
Where you leave off
Of infinite elastic        5
Walking the ceiling
Our eyelashes polish stars
Curled close in the youngest corpuscle
Of a descendant
We spit up our passions in our grand-dams        10
Fixing the extension of your reactions
Our shadow lengthens
In your fear
You are so old
Born in our immortality        15
Stuck fast as Life
In one impalpable
Omniprevalent Dimension
We are turned inside out
Your cities lie digesting in our stomachs        20
Street lights footle in our ocular darkness
Having swallowed your irate hungers
Satisfied before bread-breaking
To your dissolution
We splinter into Wholes        25
Stirring the remorses of your tomorrow
Among the refuse of your unborn centuries
In our busy ashbins
Stink the melodies
of your        30
So easily reducible
Our tissue is of that which escapes you
Birth-Breaths and orgasms
The shattering tremor of the static        35
The far-shore of an instant
The unsurpassable openness of the circle
Legerdemain of God
Only in the segregated angles of Lunatic Asylums
Do those who have strained to exceeding themselves        40
Break on our edgeless contours
The mouthed echoes of what
has exuded to our companionship
Is horrible to the ear
Of the half that is left inside them.        45

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