| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | Old Accustomed Impudent Ghost | | By Emanuel Carnevali |
| | From “Neuriade”
THAT morning the dawn arose from the sodden grey city pavements, | |
| And it was a sick grey breath. | |
| I had spent myself asking the night for sleep. | |
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| Broken in pieces I was—only the evil spirit was whole in me; | |
| There was a curse on my bitten bloody lips…. | 5 |
| And then … | |
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| Oh, then the old accustomed, impudent ghost came in: | |
| He wore my bagged, ragged pants, and was unshaven; | |
| And his face was the one I had seen in the mirror | |
| Too many times. | 10 | | | |
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