Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
The CrucifixionMaxwell Bodenheim
From “Charcoals”
H
A slippery, whispering curtain which could not stop
Streams of dim gleams behind it.
One day with a long knife I cut a rent in the curtain:
I saw a soul nailed to a cross—
Slender, perfect-lipped, trying to laugh at its agony,
Counting its spattering blood-drops amusedly.
And somehow I could not find the sight dreadful.