I feel really crappy today and probably should have stayed in bed. But here I sit in my cubical cuddling a cup of tea. I’d probably give my pinky finger if it meant I’d never be sick to my stomach again. I might even give two fingers, and an ear. Instead of continuing with my pathetic whining, here is an Anne Carson poem I can’t get over. (Am I allowed to type out this whole poem? Might the poetry police get me?)
You have captured: pinned upon
my heart: the wall of my heart is your love
with one glance: as one
with one bead: as an exile of the kings of royalty
of your eyes: my heart
you have something of mine: a torn thing
again the moon: now
the rule: (who knows)
Wow. That was an HTML formatting nightmare. Hopefully this displays correctly in your browser because if I’ve mucked up the beauty of this for you I just might cry.
Why I love this poem: I love the call and response quality it has. It reminds me of some sort of Catholic ceremony. I hear it spoken as if by a chorus. As always, I love Carson’s word choice. pinned upon, a torn thing–she knows how to evoke so much emotion in so few words. And I like the idea that it is borrowed text/blended text though there isn’t a footnote to tell me where this text came from. It’s twice borrowed now, I guess. Thanks, Anne.