Of the Broken Brotherhood

Emulation of the more beautiful brothers is good,

Flesh-bound contentment, heat-thirst of the body:

Of the low-bellied mountain lion, resigned to himself

whole,

Moving in terribly beautiful rhythm of shoulders in skin

sheath;

Following the wind color with a small and stone-chiselled

head;

Making the kill swiftly with heavy-wristed blows and the

deep mouth lagain,

Gorging the hot-blooded meat; sleeping the belly lean

Steel brains awake in the angles of his ears;

Stretching the waking utterly, knives bared of his feet;

Lying with the great neck erect, the pale eyes turned out-

ward,

In the sun-drench on the rocks.

We, the less perfect there, watch the more beautiful

brothers enviously.

But we have also the cold difference to remember, |

We, the erect animals, with tomorrow's brain in our skulls.

Supple-sinewed the brains we must bear of our joining,

Filling their bellies with stars and distant music,

Willing, of great strength, to leave yesterday's bones for

the wind to sing in,

Killing today joyfully, constantly stalking tomorrow.