OTHERS

A MAGAZINE of the NEW VERSE

JULY 1915
EDITED BY ALFRED KREYMBORG GRANTWOOD, N. J.
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I .OTHERS MARY MINA CAROLYN LOY JOHNS HOLLEY DAVIES ORRICK HORACE ALFRED KREYMBORG VOL. I No.

. N . J. no. 1 Copyright. by 1915 Alfred Kreymborg Grantwood.PS301.08 V I.

I am not afraid o f what m a y be in the places w h e r e the shadows are p i l e d . oh. Especially o n e ' s o w n . I said : " O h . l o o k i n g into m y r o o m . W h a t you want m e to bring to y o u A n d it is y o u r s . m o r n i n g . haps to die—perhaps to live—" II I am not afraid o f m y o w n heart. I am not afraid—ah. very m u c h ! Per­ But I do not k n o w what it is e x a c t l y . I am not afraid—see. I d o n o t want a n y t h i n g . T h e r e is s o m e t h i n g I want. what was that ? It is a dangerous place in w h i c h to w a l k — a heart. " A n d with a sudden rush o f tears to m y heart. . and saying : " W h a t will you do with m e ? I am your slave I will b r i n g to you w h a t e v e r y o u wish O n l y tell m e what you want m e to d o A n d I will do it.MARY CAROLYN DAVIES 3 SONGS OF A GIRL I T h e r e is a m o r n i n g standing at m y w i n d o w . I walk straight in A n d look everywhere.

she is day-dreaming. glimpses at ( S o m e t i m e s we were sure w e wanted to m e e t . and the w o m a n that I am g o i n g to b e . and what life was — O h . the little girl. the other T h e m e that n o b o d y else k n o w s evening T h e m e that is the nicest person I have ever m e t . ( O h . S o w e sat there. We take counsel t o g e t h e r c o n c e r n i n g what colors w e shall w e a v e i n t o t h e dream that w e are m a k i n g . the little girl I used to b e .4 MARY CAROLYN DAVIES III Just to be y o u n g Y o u n g e n o u g h to laugh w h e n o n e should w e e p — IV T h e r e are three o f us . S o m e t i m e s t h e y say. w e had m u c h to talk over. . and other times we h o p e d that w e never w o u l d ) W e had all the years before to discuss and all the years after to talk about A n d there were other t h i n g s — ourselves. and the girl I a m . silently. T h e y do not k n o w that w e are t a k i n g counsel t o g e t h e r . V 1 was a l o n e w i t h just m e . t h e girl I a m . and the w o m a n I am g o i n g to b e . and did not say a word. quite the nicest!) me over I was a l o n e w i t h just W e had m u c h to talk But o n l y caught W e had never properly met before. T h e r e are m a n y tilings that t h e y d o not k n o w .

A color. 1 feel your eyes upon m i n e . but it weeps and afraid. A bird c r y i n g out its song against its A flower n e w . must g o . " it whispers. in a little w h i l e D o n o t be so proud — . I must g o . A n d I w e e p for y o u . " I "Ah. it is "Go.b o r n . VIII I am g o i n g to die t o o . wait a little. T h e little kiss is restless on m y lips " N a y . A r o o m darkened for the death o f a d a y . startled— A n d m y heart beats w i t h j o y o f y o u — Y o u w h o m I never Whom I only loved. A sound." I counsel. flower. " I whisper. knew neighbors'. A n d I hear your b r e a t h i n g . stays. " "wait"— VII A turn o f a stranger's head S o m e t i m e s brings you very near to m e . wait. g o .MARY CAROLYN DAVIES 5 VI T h e little kiss is t r e m b l i n g on m y lips It will not leave its h o m e .

r o c k e t Constellations in an o c e a n W h o s e rivers run no fresher T h a n a trickle o f saliva T h e r e are suspect places I must live in m y lantern T r i m m i n g subliminal Virginal O f experience Colored glass.6 MINA LOY LOVE SONGS I Spawn of fantasies S i t t i n g the Pig Cupid R o o t i n g erotic "Once upon a appraisable his rosy garbage time" white star-topped membrane light snout Pulls a w e e d A m o n g wild oats s o w n in m u c o u s I would an e y e in a B e n g a l E t e r n i t y in a s k y . flicker to the b e l l o w s .

III W e m i g h t have c o u p l e d In the bed-ridden m o n o p o l y o f a m o m e n t O r b r o k e n flesh with o n e another A t the profane c o m m u n i o n table W h e r e w i n e is spilled on promiscuous lips W e m i g h t have g i v e n birth to a W i t h the daily n e w s Printed in b l o o d on its w i n g s . butterfly .MINA LOY 7 II The skin-sack duality In w h i c h a wanton Packed A l l the c o m p l e t i o n s o f m y infructuous impulses S o m e t h i n g the shape o f a man T o the casual vulgarity o f the m e r e l y observant More of a clock-work mechanism R u n n i n g d o w n against time T o w h i c h I am n o t p a c e d My finger-tips are n u m b from fretting your hair A G o d ' s door-mat O n the threshold o f your m i n d .

.5 MINA LOY IV O n c e in a mezzanino T h e starry c e i l i n g Vaulted an u n i m a g i n a b l e Bird-like abortions W i t h human throats family A n d w i s d o m ' s eyes W h o wore lamp-shade red A n d w o o l e n hair dresses O n e bore a b a b y In a padded porte-enfant T i e d w i t h a sarsanet r i b b o n T o her g o o s e ' s w i n g s But for the a b o m i n a b l e shadows I w o u l d have lived A m o n g their fearful furniture secrets T o teach t h e m to tell m e their For I had guessed m i n e T h a t if I should find Y O U A n d b r i n g y o u with m e T h e b r o o d w o u l d b e swept clean out.

T h e y c a n n o t earn d i n n e r Or e v e n hold a p e b b l e . . For without it y o u are helpless regulations. Y o u n e e d a shoe-string . . I shall frame For them they c a n n o t do a n y t h i n g . them. As a man w h o studies But with a y e l l o w o n e L i k e a w o m a n w h o is bald. beautiful I lost it mind.ORRICK JOHNS 9 OLIVES FIN GERS I ' v e ten fingers V e r y m u c h admired. . BEAU TiFUL MIND O h . m y beautiful m i n d ! . . calendars and beer bottles carpets . Pebbles are pretty falling through SHOESTRING Little o l d shoe. . I shall find o n e for y o u . In a lot o f frying pans And And Oh.

. . W h a t t h e y m i g h t d o . Miggles. . . Upon a line. L i g h t e d like g r a n d m a ' s moonflowers . How do you lie. E v e r y o n e always said. UNDERSHIRTS IN BED I am tortured B y this borrowed mattress . . thinking. Swish — I hear s o m e t h i n g in the Suddenly. And I wish I were a cat." I admired y o u from the Miggles ! A ROOM It is a r o o m that sets p e o p l e So t h e y say. . Napoleon ? . BLUE Blue undershirts. " M i g g l e s did Oh. beginning. It is n o t necessary to say to y o u A n y t h i n g about it — What they do. it. corner.10 ORRICK JOHNS M iG GLES Miggles— T h a t was his name. blue undershirts.

. upon the table W h e n m y hand trembles You nod. W i t h his face turned n o b l y T o w a r d the ' T w a s true Of him time. Q u i t e half the AT THE DOOR I have o n l y a t i n g l i n g Not of his eyes But o f A dandelion Nevertheless. remembrance understood. henaurme! . There — K n o w n .ORRICK JOHNS 11 IN THE SQUARE T h e y made a statue O f a general on horseback. Such C'est understanding. crupper . The whole of him. ON THE L i t t l e d u c k TABLE M a d e o f plaster. W i t h your Upon a head spring. elicited. A n d when I chuckle too . . . . The whole of m e . . . .

W e had o n e m o o n .12 ORRICK JOHNS IN THE STREET Dinky. A l l was over. . A MOON It lasted a month. Y o u t o o k it for a baby And when it cried For a b i b and a b o t t l e . A s the q u i n c e blossoms d i e d . wink must not That way . SOME WHERE Now I know I have been e a t i n g apple-pie for breakfast In the O f your New England sexuality. . . . You hussy. Such are all your Little one. T h e cherries were r i p e n i n g moments. YOU slinky. . . . . D o you forget I t h i n k For both o f us ? IN THE ORCHARD This morning.

W i l l g o from her F r e e l y . what s y m p a t h e t i c t o u c h . M y friends and foes a l i k e . Y o u . y o u from t h e m w i t h d r a w .w a r d a path o f n e w astonishment. Essence o f all I k n o w and do and a m . W h a t e v e r tenderness o f g l a n c e . She w i l l be . like laughter. T h e i r s p e e c h is f o r e i g n .HORACE HOLLEY 13 YOU B y y o u all t h i n g s are c h a n g e d . like sun and rain. HERTHA She w i l l g r o w Beautiful.— A l l . O n l y m e m o r y paths m e b a c k to their far w o r l d . Beauty will c o m e to her G i v e n . all its m e a n i n g was your sure approach. E c h o s and shadows that pass but c a n n o t c l a i m . m y household B e c o m e as strangers w i t h o u t n a m e . I n c r e d i b l y r e m o t e b y your i n c r e d i b l e nearness. In t h e m whatever I learned o f r e c o g n i t i o n and acquaintance. Y e t as I gaze happily through its t w i l i t vista T h e past itself stretches m e . their actions dream.

— C h i l d . morality Haunt you. D r a g g i n g n o chains and a i m i n g for n o star. deride t h e m ! W h i c h are o f atoms. beauty itself will g r o w L i k e her. She will g r o w Beautiful. S t u m b l i n g or d a n c i n g as t h e tune is p i t c h e d . if these dead t h i n g s V i r t u e . not remembering . n e w . not m e n .14 HORACE HOLLEY Center. c i r c u m f e r e n c e to a great j o y Swiftly passing. D e n y t h e m . Not choosing. T o r c h for t h e flame o f passion. . Flame for t h e torch o f l o v e . N o . repassing L i k e water in and from a l i m p i d w e l l . She is o f t h e n e w g e n e r a t i o n . THE IDIOT —Yes! But as for m e I pass w i t h o u t debate o f life and death. I k n o w w h o frowns and g r u d g e s : ' C o n c e n t r a t e essence o f i n c o n s t a n t m o m e n t s .

heaved apart By bursting seeds of God's compelling spring. arch on arch All staggering down and whelmed In waters of eager thought. An unreal. each smoking shrine And unperceived. these moderns. The fool's way mine. Tired Atlases who bear A world of borrowed marble and stolen fame. and ever as I pass Touch softly each gleaming pillar. in flames of love. crashing. Where is that Prophet crying within my heart? .' Aye.HORACE HOLLEY 15 The flower's soul. For men are sleepers in a world of dream. Tears. Will break asunder. the fool's way h i s ! ' And that may be. Against which day I neither lock nor loose Nor own nor will be owned within this doom That with a few others undetached and free My soul may cry: 'Lo God within this quickened earth Plow under this yearning heart which I have borne So many seasons. That any moment. But ever I peer about Observing these anxious fretful folk. unfertile till you had sown.— I peer about. staggering world. Temple on temple. drop tears upon them. as I know.

that compassionate one— had bent over me for a moment. . I with the noise of you. so cool. so strong. MARCH The air is drenched with t h e noise of wind.16 ALFRED KREYMBORG VARIATIONS WIZARDRY Your hands. wizards improvising sleep • • • VARIATION Till you came— I was I. CARESS It was as though one of those trees— the very tallest of them.

candles— and no two alike— at an altar. . as well. are my mes in constant attendance on you.ALFRED KREYMBORG 17 WILLOWS This amphitheater of willows praying that tarn. Come. PER CONTRA Don't weep. PRIEST I burn candles. CONTRA MUNDUM There is one sanctuary that is never shut— to you. There is sanctuary from me.

sleep. are round with Baby. quite different from the last. be a over. rest. The war is Only pigs over. another case quite different— Listen. with a German Baby. drink.18 ALFRED KREYMBORG O V E R H E A R D IN AN ASYLUM And here we have another case. over. dream. over. Baby. The war is Daddy's come coin. The war is Mother's breasts milk. quite different from— . slop over so. The war is You'll too. Baby. soldier We gave her the doll— Now there we have another case.

Skipwith Cannell. Alanson Hartpence. Wallace Stevens and William Carlos Williams. Amy Lowell.Others for August are Robert Carlton Brown. .

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.Hand-set and printed by the workers of the Liberty Print Shop in New York City.

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