IF I should pass the tomb of Jonah I would stop there and sit for awhile; Because I was swallowed one time deep in the dark And came out alive after all.
If I pass the burial spot of Nero I shall say to the wind, “Well, well!”— I who have fiddled in a world on fire, I who have done so many stunts not worth doing.
I am looking for the grave of Sinbad too. I want to shake his ghost-hand and say, “Neither of us died very early, did we?”
And the last sleeping-place of Nebuchadnezzar— When I arrive there I shall tell the wind: “You ate grass; I have eaten crow— Who is better off now or next year?”
Jack Cade, John Brown, Jesse James, There too I could sit down and stop for awhile. I think I could tell their headstones: “God, let me remember all good losers.”
I could ask people to throw ashes on their heads In the name of that sergeant at Belleau Woods, Walking into the drumfires, calling his men, “Come on, you … Do you want to live forever?”