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Home  »  Poetry: A Magazine of Verse  »  Emanuel Carnevali

Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.

Old Accustomed Impudent Ghost

Emanuel Carnevali

From “Neuriade”

THAT morning the dawn arose from the sodden grey city pavements,

And it was a sick grey breath.

I had spent myself asking the night for sleep.

Broken in pieces I was—only the evil spirit was whole in me;

There was a curse on my bitten bloody lips….

And then …

Oh, then the old accustomed, impudent ghost came in:

He wore my bagged, ragged pants, and was unshaven;

And his face was the one I had seen in the mirror

Too many times.