Published on Modern American Poetry (https://www.modernamericanpoetry.org)


The White City

I will not toy with it nor bend an inch. Deep in the secret chambers of my heart I muse my life-long hate, and without flinch I bear it nobly as I live my part. My being would be a skeleton, a shell, If this dark Passion that fills my every mood, And makes my heaven in the white world's hell, Did not forever feed me vital blood. I see the mighty city through a mist-- The strident trains that speed the goaded mass, The poles and spires and towers vapor-kissed, The fortressed port through which the great ships pass, The tides, the wharves, the dens I contemplate, Are sweet like wanton loves because I hate.

Poetic Form: 
Sonnet [1]
Group: 
Subscribe to group [2]
Poet: 
Claude McKay [3]
Poem Image: 
Group visibility: 
Public - accessible to all site users
Poem: 
The White City [4]
Publication Date: 
Saturday, January 1, 1921

Source URL: https://www.modernamericanpoetry.org/poem/white-city-0

Links
[1] https://www.modernamericanpoetry.org/category/poetic-form/sonnet
[2] https://www.modernamericanpoetry.org/user/login?destination=group/node/54119/subscribe/og_user_node
[3] https://www.modernamericanpoetry.org/poet/claude-mckay
[4] https://www.modernamericanpoetry.org/poem/white-city