Charles Olson 
 
THE KINGFISHERS 
1 
What does not change / is the will to change 
He woke, fully clothed, in his bed. He 
remembered only one thing, the birds, how 
when he came in, he had gone around the rooms 
and got them back in their cage, the green one first, 
she with the bad leg, and then the blue, 
the one they had hoped was a male 
Otherwise? Yes, Fernand, who had talked lispingly of Albers & Angkor Vat. 
He had left the party without a word. How he got up, got into his coat, 
I do not know. When I saw him, he was at the door, but it did not matter, 
he was already sliding along the wall of the night, losing himself 
in some crack of the ruins. That it should have been he who said, "The kingfishers! 
who cares 
for their feathers 
now?" 
His last words had been, "The pool is slime." Suddenly everyone, 
ceasing their talk, sat in a row around him, watched 
they did not so much hear, or pay attention, they 
wondered, looked at each other, smirked, but listened, 
he repeated and repeated, could not go beyond his thought 
"The pool the kingfishers' feathers were wealth why 
did the export stop?" 
It was then he left 
 
2 
I thought of the E on the stone, and of what Mao said 
la lumiere" 
but the kingfisher 
 
de l’aurore" 
but the kingfisher flew west 
est devant nous! 
he got the color of his breast 
from the heat of the setting sun! 
 
The features are, the feebleness of the feet (syndactylism of the 3rd & 4th digit) 
the bill, serrated, sometimes a pronounced beak, the wings 
where the color is, short and round, the tail 
inconspicuous. 
But not these things are the factors. Not the birds. 
The legends are 
legends. Dead, hung up indoors, the kingfisher 
will not indicate a favoring wind, 
or avert the thunderbolt. Nor, by its nesting, 
still the waters, with the new year, for seven days. 
It is true, it does nest with the opening year, but not on the waters. 
It nests at the end of a tunnel bored by itself in a bank. There, 
six or eight white and translucent eggs are laid, on fishbones ' 
not on bare clay, on bones thrown up in pellets by the birds. 
                                                   On these rejectamenta 
(as they accumulate they form a cup-shaped structure) the young are born 
And, as they are fed and grow, this nest of excrement and decayed fish becomes 
                                                            a dripping, fetid mass 
   Mao concluded: 
nous devons 
nous lever 
et agir! 
3 
When the attentions change / the jungle 
leaps in 
even the stones are split 
they rive 
Or, 
enter 
that other conqueror we more naturally recognize 
he so resembles ourselves 
 
But the E 
cut so rudely on that oldest stone 
sounded otherwise, 
was differently heard 
as, in another time, were treasures used: 
(and, later, much later, a fine ear thought 
a scarlet coat) 
"of green feathers feet, beaks and eyes 
of gold 
"animals likewise, 
resembling snails 
"a large wheel, gold, with figures of unknown four-foots, 
and worked with tufts of leaves, weight 
3800 ounces 
"last, two birds, of thread and featherwork, the quills 
gold, the feet 
gold, the two birds perched on two reeds 
gold, the reeds arising from two embroidered mounds, 
one yellow, the other 
white. 
"And from each reed hung 
seven feathered tassels. 
In this instance, the priests 
(in dark cotton robes, and dirty, 
their dishevelled hair matted with blood, and flowing wildly 
over their shoulders) 
rush in among the people, calling on them 
to protect their gods 
And all now is war 
where so lately there was peace, 
and the sweet brotherhood, the use 
of tilled fields. 
 
4 
Not one death but many, 
not accumulation but change, the feed-back proves, the feed-back is 
the law 
Into the same river no man steps twice 
When fire dies air dies 
No one remains, nor is, one 
Around an appearance, one common model, we grow up 
many. Else how is it, 
if we remain the same, 
we take pleasure now 
in what we did not take pleasure before? love 
contrary objects? admire and/or find fault? use 
other words, feel other passions, have 
nor figure, appearance, disposition, tissue 
the same? 
To be in different states without a change 
is not a possibility 
We can be precise. The factors are 
in the animal and/or the machine the factors are 
communication and/or control, both involve 
the message. And what is the message? The message is 
a discrete or continuous sequence of measurable events distributed in time 
is the birth of air, is 
the birth of water, is 
a state between 
the origin and 
the end, between 
birth and the beginning of 
another fetid nest 
is change, presents 
no more than itself 
And the too strong grasping of it, 
when it is pressed together and condensed, 
loses it 
This very thing you are 
 
 
II 
They buried their dead in a sitting posture 
serpent cane razor ray of the sun 
And she sprinkled water on the head of the child, crying 
"Cioa-coatl! Cioa-coatl!" 
with her face to the west 
Where the bones are found, in each personal heap 
with what each enjoyed, there is always 
the Mongolian louse 
The light is in the east. Yes. And we must rise, act. Yet 
in the west, despite the apparent darkness (the whiteness 
which covers all), if you look,  if you can bear,  if you can, long enough 
as long as it was necessary for him, my guide 
to look into the yellow of that longest-lasting rose 
so you must, and, in that whiteness, into that face, with what candor, look 
and, considering the dryness of the place 
the long absence of an adequate race 
(of the two who first came, each a conquistador, one healed, the other 
tore the eastern idols down, toppled 
the temple walls, which, says the excuser 
were black from human gore) 
hear 
hear, where the dry blood talks 
where the old appetite walks 
la piu saporita et migliore 
che si possa truovar al mondo 
where it hides, look 
in the eye how it runs 
in the flesh / chalk 
but under these petals 
in the emptiness 
regard the light, contemplate 
the flower 
whence it arose 
with what violence benevolence is bought 
what cost in gesture justice brings 
what wrongs domestic rights involve 
what stalks 
this silence 
what pudor pejorocracy affronts 
how awe, night-rest and neighborhood can rot 
what breeds where dirtiness is law 
what crawls 
below 
 
III 
I am no Greek, hath not th'advantage. 
And of course, no Roman: 
he can take no risk that matters, 
the risk of beauty least of all. 
But I have my kin, if for no other reason than 
(as he said, next of kin) I commit myself, and, 
given my freedom, I'd be a cad 
if I didn't. Which is most true. 
It works out this way, despite the disadvantage. 
I offer, in explanation, a quote: 
si j'ai du gout, ce n'est gueres 
que pour la terre et les pierres 
Despite the discrepancy (an ocean courage age) 
this is also true: if I have any taste 
it is only because I have interested myself 
in what was slain in the sun 
I pose you your question: 
 
shall you uncover honey / where maggots are? 
I hunt among stones 
                                             
                                    1949
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