Monday, November 12, 2007

remember me? i'm poem of the day!

August, by Dorothy Parker

When my eyes are weeds,
And my lips are petals, spinning
Down the wind that has beginning
Where the crumpled beeches start
In a fringe of salty reeds;
When my arms are elder-bushes,
And the rangy lilac pushes
Upward, upward through my heart;

Summer, do your worst!
Light your tinsel moon, and call on
Your performing stars to fall on
Headlong through your paper sky;
Nevermore shall I be cursed
By a flushed and amorous slattern,
With her dusty laces' pattern
Trailing, as she straggles by.

3 Comments:

Blogger LeLo in NoPo said...

Dorothy Parker is my most favorite poet. LOVE HER. Bitter jaded woman. I went to the Algonquin in NYC once just because of her.

Men don't make passes
At girls who wear glasses.

12:41 PM  
Blogger reasonably prudent poet said...

yep, she's pretty great. and not to be a snot but i am a snot, so... it's "men *seldom* make passes at girls who wear glasses." gotta keep it straight or she'll come haunt your dreams and bitch slap you while you're sleeping.

1:39 PM  
Blogger LeLo in NoPo said...

Ha! Thank you for the correction!

2:42 PM  

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