The Taxi
by Amy Lowell
When I go away from you
The world beats dead
Like a slackened drum.
I call out for you against the jutted stars
And shout into the ridges of the wind.
Streets coming fast,
One after the other,
Wedge you away from me,
And the lamps of the city prick my eyes
So that I can no longer see your face.
Why should I leave you,
To wound myself upon the sharp edges of the night?
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Monday, April 20, 2009
From a poem
Friday, April 17, 2009
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Away from witnesses
Monday, April 13, 2009
Happy Easter!
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Rationalists
Rationalists, wearing square hats,
Think, in square rooms,
Looking at the floor,
Looking at the ceiling.
They confine themselves
To right-angled triangles.
If they tried rhomboids,
Cones, waving lines, ellipses --
As, for example, the ellipse of the half-moon --
Rationalists would wear sombreros.
Wallace Stevens, from Six Significant Landscapes
Think, in square rooms,
Looking at the floor,
Looking at the ceiling.
They confine themselves
To right-angled triangles.
If they tried rhomboids,
Cones, waving lines, ellipses --
As, for example, the ellipse of the half-moon --
Rationalists would wear sombreros.
Wallace Stevens, from Six Significant Landscapes
Monday, April 6, 2009
Friday, April 3, 2009
Photography
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Too fast
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)