“In our present atmosphere of distrust, violence, and irrationality, with so many human beings murdering themselevs - either literally or symbollically...”
On that day his car was found abondoned on the approach to the Golden Gate Bridge in San Franciso. He had spoken to his friends about suicide; he had also spoken of going away to start a new life.
FOR MY DAUGHTER
Looking into my daughter’s eyes I read
Beneath the innocnence of morning flesh
Concealed, hintings of death she does not heed.
Coldest of winds have blown this hair, and mesh
Of seaweed snarled these minatures of hands;
The nights slow poison, tolerant and bland,
Has moved he blood. Parched years that I have seen
That may be her’s appear: foul lingering
Death in certain war, she relishes the sting
Of other’s agony; perhaps the cruel
Bride of a syphilitic or a fool.
These speculations sour in the sun.
I have no daughter. I desire none.
Collected Poems appear in Faber PBK £7.99
