Abe Lincoln Writes To Joshua Speed Poem by jackilton peachum

ABE LINCOLN WRITES TO JOSHUA SPEED

Dear Joshua: You know that I love you,
That I have always loved you-- only you--
The woman means nothing to me- nothing!
Henceforth, don't write angry letters to me!
Mary always was and always will be--
A splinter between us in our bed-- but--
I can't be shut of her in this office!
Did my connivance top my ambition,
How quickly I would be a single man!
What is it that fool Herndon says of me?
'His ambition is a little engine-
And knows no rest! ' He sees not half of it!
May God legitimize me in office!
A President must be above the law-
Else how is he to make a government?
Me, for the cunning of the country boy,
The big, rude, untutored rural bumpkin
As cozzens the clever city-slicker!
The husband that outsmarts the nagging wife!
Anyway, she's a cow, gross of habit,
Unpleasant-- forever in a foul mood,
Capable of the meanest behavior,
A spendthrift who wastes more than I can earn--.
(I sometimes believe she might be insane--
I've considered- but that's not possible!)
We no longer sleep together, of course--
Her headaches- and what a relief to me!
Oh, she has perjured herself more than once
In the matter of government monies!
And persuaded others to do likewise!
I don't know how we should make an answer
If there be any call to inquiry--
Perhaps-you will pray for me, Joshua,
Pray my rising career don't be cut short
By the machinations of a woman!
No, of course, there won't be an inquiry--
I've taken proper steps-- the matter's closed!
But you ask what brought me to marry her?
She with her connections and her money--
When you're poor as I am, you're needing both!
(Alas, her fortune long gone, I'm afraid!)
I say, what other reasons could there be?
One don't ride to this office by merit-
The fare will be paid with cash and conscience--.
In that capacity, she serves me well!
And lest you think I give her too much praise,
I remind you-- she was once a helpmate--
So, in spite of all, I've a debt to her
-- Not only for office, but family--
A thing I never had nor dared dream of
In my whole entire melancholy life!
But here I have suffered such tragedies!
Alas, that poor Willie should die-- my boy,
My precious little son, a sweet angel,
And he shut in the earth, food for the worm!
I glimpse him now and then, in pale moonlight,
Walking across the lawn of the White House--
Mary tells me she's seen him too-- at play,
In the parlor sometimes after sunrise--
Now, God help us both- for we know he's dead--
We've all seen him lying in his coffin!
Our seance did nothing to bring him forth--
How can he be haunting these corridors?
It breaks my heart- I must not dwell on it!
Now, I'll tell you a thing that baffles me
-- Last evening, I looked in a mirror--
And saw my face, half dead and half-alive!
One side, my living face stared back at me,
And on the other side, my naked skull-
Devoid of skin-gleamed bone-white in the glass!
I looked again and the vision was gone!