William Carlos Williams Tract by William Carlos Williams I will teach you my townspeople my townspeople what are you thinking of? how to perform a funeral-- for you have it over a troop A rough plain hearse then of artists-- with gilt wheels and no top at all. unless one should scour the world-- On this the coffin lies you have the ground sense necessary. by its own weight. See! the hearse leads. No wreaths please-- I begin with a design for a hearse. especially no hot house flowers. For Christ's sake not black-- Some common memento is better, nor white either--and not polished! something he prized and is known by: Let it be weathered--like a farm wagon-- his old clothes--a few books perhaps-- with gilt wheels (this could be God knows what! You realize applied fresh at small expense) how we are about these things or no wheels at all: my townspeople-- a rough dray to drag over the ground. something will be found--anything even flowers if he had come to that. Knock the glass out! So much for the hearse. My God--glass, my townspeople! For what purpose? Is it for the dead For heaven's sake though see to the driver! to look out or for us to see Take off the silk hat! In fact how well he is housed or to see that's no place at all for him-- the flowers or the lack of them-- up there unceremoniously or what? dragging our friend out to his own dignity! To keep the rain and snow from him? Bring him down--bring him down! He will have a heavier rain soon: Low and inconspicuous! I'd not have him ride pebbles and dirt and what not. on the wagon at all--damn him-- Let there be no glass-- the undertaker's understrapper! and no upholstery, phew! Let him hold the reins and no little brass rollers and walk at the side and small easy wheels on the bottom-- and inconspicuously too!
William Carlos Williams Tract by William Carlos Williams I will teach you my townspeople how to perform a funeral-- for you have it over a troop of artists-- unless one should scour the world-- you have the ground sense necessary. See! the hearse leads. I begin with a design for a hearse. For Christ's sake not black-- nor white either--and not polished! Let it be weathered--like a farm wagon-- with gilt wheels (this could be applied fresh at small expense) or no wheels at all: a rough dray to drag over the ground. Knock the glass out! My God--glass, my townspeople! For what purpose? Is it for the dead to look out or for us to see how well he is housed or to see the flowers or the lack of them-- or what? To keep the rain and snow from him? He will have a heavier rain soon: pebbles and dirt and what not. Let there be no glass-- and no upholstery, phew! and no little brass rollers and small easy wheels on the bottom-- my townspeople what are you thinking of? A rough plain hearse then with gilt wheels and no top at all. On this the coffin lies by its own weight. No wreaths please-- especially no hot house flowers. Some common memento is better, something he prized and is known by: his old clothes--a few books perhaps-- God knows what! You realize how we are about these things my townspeople-- something will be found--anything even flowers if he had come to that. So much for the hearse. For heaven's sake though see to the driver! Take off the silk hat! In fact that's no place at all for him-- up there unceremoniously dragging our friend out to his own dignity! Bring him down--bring him down! Low and inconspicuous! I'd not have him ride on the wagon at all--damn him-- the undertaker's understrapper! Let him hold the reins and walk at the side and inconspicuously too!
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