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Monday, April 1, 2013

Prodigal Son (Thomas Hart Benton)

















#112

I've heard we regret most the undone thing.
Well, I've done it all, I just couldn't do it here.
Now I've come home to find there is nothing
But broken shadows and a skull's blind leer.
I once stroked thighs beneath a red silk skirt,
And drew a straight flush to win twenty grand.
I shot a man and watched his blood stain dirt,
Slipped a diamond into his widow's hand.
I've been chased, jailed, raped, and paroled,
And after all these years came home to be consoled.
The Bible says that I shall be embraced --
By the collapse of our home's rotting shell.
No soul remains to absolve my disgrace.
Regret is a corpse poisoning the well.