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When I went out to kill myself, I caught
A
pack of hoodlums beating up a man.
Running to spare
his suffering, I forgot
My name, my number, how my
day began,
How soldiers milled around the garden
stone
And sang amusing songs; how all that
day
Their javelins measured crowds; how I
alone
Bargained the proper coins, and slipped
away.
Banished from heaven, I found this victim
beaten,
Stripped, kneed, and left to cry. Dropping my
rope
Aside, I ran, ignored the uniforms:
Then I
remembered bread my flesh had eaten,
The kiss that
ate my flesh. Flayed without hope,
I held the man for
nothing in my arms.
James Wright
Read poems about / on: running,
kiss,
heaven,
hope,
alone,
soldier,
song,
remember
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James Wright 
Free Poetry E-Book: 31 poems of
James Wright
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