Sunday, May 19, 2013

For Me It Was Getting Late; for You, Where You Were, Not













ALONE FOR A WEEK

Jane Kenyon

I washed a load of clothes
and hung them out to dry.
Then I went to town
and busied myself all day.
The sleeve of your best shirt
rose ceremonious
when I drove in; our night-
clothes twined and untwined in
a little gust of wind.

For me it was getting late;
for you, where you were, not.
The harvest moon was full
but sparse clouds made its light
not quite reliable.
The bed on your side seemed
as wide and flat as Kansas;
your pillow plump, cool,
and allegorical....


8 comments:

  1. I'd claim it, the offer is typically friendly of you, but will just leave it at a heartfelt thanks for introducing me to her.

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    Replies
    1. You're very welcome, thanks for Kind words.

      Delete
  2. I love this post because it is very very interesting.Thanks you very much for shearing this article

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  3. Sorry that your spam didn't offer you discount coconut oil or wedding shoes, neither of which will be my next purchase. Eat it, big data.

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  4. i see that jane kenyon was born the same year i was, but never made it out of the twentieth century

    this may be why her poem about the guy eating yogurt claims it is "cool, sweet food, which has caused no animal to suffer"

    alas, this is untrue of most yogurt, made as it is from the milk of imprisoned cows, separated all too soon from their calves, who are then confined in conditions i will not describe here

    but these days the guy could be eating soy yogurt, of course

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  5. and speaking of shearing, as ...thunder... does, reminds me of the catchy acronym MICFiC -

    MICFiC

    M ilitary
    I ndustrial
    C ongressional
    Fi nancial
    C orporate Media Complex

    The second "i" in MICFiC is not capitalized, which makes it a bit more interesting if it should ever come to the "graphic design" stage, as well as facilitating easy pronunciation -

    mick-fick

    I wondered if I could come up with an aphoristic explanation, and decided that the elevator version is:

    The MICFiC is a conspiracy to use, abuse, and confuse the people, to "milk, shear, and slaughter the sheeple", figuratively speaking - except the "slaughter" is literal.

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  6. I've seen you write of MICFiC before, it's smart.

    I am eating Kinder lately, not nearly conscientiously enough, of course, trying to buy clothes and stuff more conscientiously; seemed like a place to start to reinterogate my options vis a vis my complicity vis a vis vis a vis.

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