Out
Out
From the shore with every row.
Every oar-row cluttering the sea
Almost Swiss clockwork.
Not quite.
Clutter
Clutter
Clutter without cessation
As the restless Soul in its writhing
In though and doubt, assertion
And enunciation
And yet
Out
Out
Out ceaseless the oar-fed barge.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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