Carl Sandburg (1878–1967). Chicago Poems. 1916.

23. Mag

I WISH to God I never saw you, Mag.

I wish you never quit your job and came along with me.

I wish we never bought a license and a white dress

For you to get married in the day we ran off to a minister

And told him we would love each other and take care of each other

Always and always long as the sun and the rain lasts anywhere.

Yes, I’m wishing now you lived somewhere away from here

And I was a bum on the bumpers a thousand miles away dead broke.

I wish the kids had never come

And rent and coal and clothes to pay for

And a grocery man calling for cash,

Every day cash for beans and prunes.

I wish to God I never saw you, Mag.

I wish to God the kids had never come.