poetry poem

now for a brisk and cheerful fight
did you ever see an alligator
no prey am i of poor thoughts
some of the hurts you have cured
i have come into the desert because my soul is athirst
the arches of the red bridge
up from the meadows rich with corn
let us express our baser passions
i cannot always feel his greatness
to come so soon to this imagined dark
had he and i but met
in the cloud-gray mornings