For my English class, we had to find a poem of at least 20 lines. I picked this one by William Dewitt Snodgrass.
(1)Sweet beast, I have gone prowling
a proud rejected man
who lived along the edge
catch as catch can;
in darkness and in hedges
I sang my sour tune
and all my love was howling
conspicuously alone
(9)I curled and slept all day
or nursed my bloodless wounds
until the squares were silent
where I could make my tunes
singular and violent
The, sure as hearers came,
I crapt and flinshed away
And, girl, you've done the same
(17)A stray from my own type,
led along by blindness
my love was near to spoiled
and curdled all my kindness
I find no kin, no child;
only the weasel's ilk.
Sweet beast, cat of my own stripe,
come and take my milk
 yamsick · Wed Mar 21, 2007 @ 11:15pm · 1 Comments |
