The language is fractured but, I think, not meaningless. How is a person to know the grandiose and darting mind of God in the midst of dishtowels and pieces of laundry fuzzing out of each other? What is the great throbbing beating? I don't know, but the whole thing says domestic life in a new way.
I awake possessed by God
and annex the darting mind
to replace it and make it know
flung up in a dishtowel
with a sweater fuzzing out of my skirt
But what should I obey or own
if I swallow my sense and my sword
in a great throbbing beating in my face?
Hello, hello, hello....
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
-
From the 20th c., here's a mysterious thing. What is the writer thinking? Is it just that the name Galileo and his awakening, changing, ...
-
A favorite from what I've read of Pablo Neruda's 225 odes. His best are a little far out, like this one. I like the idea of the dict... -
What causes so much energy in this poem? It is lithe and sinewy in sound and image. The repetitive "was," "was," "w...
No comments:
Post a Comment