The Man Who Came In Last

“The Man Who Came In Last” takes us on a poet’s heartrending journey through the trials and tribulations of a life lived in pursuit of time immemorial.

In spite of the personal anguish marking his temporal experience, the poet, seeing his poems as a kind of prayer, divides his life’s work into six parts to commemorate the six days of creation.

 

“The Man Who Came In Last”

 

Into the streaming morning

Breathing down my skin,

I heard a quiet warning

And it shook my soul within.

 

The wind she blew and howled

And tore my freezing hands,

As a lonely beggar scowled

And cursed my promised lands.

 

I emptied out my baskets

And tumbled down my hair,

And placed it in six caskets

And reckoned it a prayer.

 

My dreaming body broken

My spooling drizzle dried,

My spleen was but a token

Of the night my liver died.

 

And now I am unbaking

The time before the past,

When no one was forsaking

a man who came in last.

by David Swartz
(Kensington Market, Toronto, 2010-2012)
davidswartzart.com

2 responses to “The Man Who Came In Last

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