It is a posture for two multiplied into a bouquet, a kneeling mother washing the feet of her naked infant before crossed mirrors, shoes of different pairs, a chinaman laughing at a nigger, a maple mingling leaves with an elm, it is butter and eggs: yellow slippers with orange bows to them, chickens and pigs in a barnyard, not too important -- the little double favors, you and I, a shirt handed to a naked man by his barelegged wife, scratch my back for me, oh and empty the slopbucket when you go down -- and get me that flower, I can't reach it. A low greyleaved thing growing in clusters, how else? -- with a swollen head -- slippers for sale, they put mirrors in those stores to make it seem -- Closely packed in a bouquet but never quite succeeding to be more than -- a passageway to something else. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ONLY ONE MOTHER by GEORGE COOPER INTELLECT by RALPH WALDO EMERSON THE CENTAUR'S FAREWELL by WILLIAM ROSE BENET SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 24 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE HUNTER'S WIFE by PHOEBE CARY THE MOTHER'S SONG by VIRGINIA WOODWARD CLOUD SONNETS ON EMINENT CHARACTERS: 5. KOSKIUSKO by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE |