Alfred Kreymborg, ed. Others for 1919. 1920.
Evelyn Scott
The Red Cross
A
Crumble me,
Eat me deep,
And my garments disintegrate.
First my nightgown,
Leaving my naked arms and legs disjointed,
Sprawled about the bed in postures meaningless to the point of obscenity.
The nipples drawn like withered plums
To the eyes of the bright young nurse.
I am nothing but a dull eye myself,
An eye out of a socket,
Bursting,
Contorted with hideous wisdom.
Eye to eye we fight in the death throes,
Myself and the young nurse.
As she smoothes the rumpled pillow back
With long cool fingers.