...it's not dark yet, but it's gettin' there...

February 16, 2005

Wednesday Is Poetry Day

In keeping with this week's grumpy Valentine's Day theme, i've selected the perfect sonnet from my favorite poet, Edna St. Vincent Millay.

If I should learn, in some quite casual way,
      That you were gone, not to return again—
Read from the back-page of a paper, say,
      Held by a neighbor in a subway train,
How at the corner of this avenue
      And such a street (so are the papers filled)
A hurrying man—who happened to be you—
      At noon to-day had happened to be killed,
I should not cry aloud—I could not cry
      Aloud, or wring my hands in such a place—
I should but watch the station lights rush by
      With a more careful interest on my face,
Or raise my eyes and read with greater care
Where to store furs and how to treat the hair.

Ouch. Edna could be a snarky bitch when she wanted to.

Which was often.

Posted by annika, Feb. 16, 2005 |
Rubric: Poetry


An oh so very eloquent, "Fuck Off".

Posted by: Casca on Feb. 16, 2005

Nathan Jones You've been gone too long. Bananrama?

Posted by: taylor collins on Feb. 18, 2005