It is raining. Fall! You whitelivered kill-joys Fall! You heavy bellied sluts, Fall from the sky! Fall onto the edged leaves, Let the bayonettes of the grass Receive you -- Drive you to the ground: There be broken finally -- and your life ends! As for me --? Beat upon my head And upon my shoulders You frighten me but little. Let your very eyes pop out Against the feather I wear And dance down the edge Of my sombrero --! I'll keep my way in spite of all. Only the flowers Are kind to them -- Lips opening upward. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN THE HOLY NATIVITY [OF OUR LORD GOD]; AS SUNG BY SHEPHERDS by RICHARD CRASHAW THE POET AND THE BABY by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR NEUTRALITY LOATHSOME by ROBERT HERRICK TO HIS MISTRESS by ROBERT HERRICK THE CUMBERLAND by HERMAN MELVILLE A DREAM WITHIN A DREAM by EDGAR ALLAN POE UPON THE IMAGE OF DEATH by ROBERT SOUTHWELL THE CASTLE OF INDOLENCE: CANTO 1 by JAMES THOMSON (1700-1748) |