Note pads
Slowly the poison the whole bloodstream fills,
The waste remains, the waste remains and kills.
- William Empson, Missing Dates
Look. This tangled kelp, these squiggles on white
is the maze through which my verse emerged.
Now the kelp’s dead, but I must write,
write till the poison’s purged.
***
The waste remains, the waste remains and kills.
- William Empson, Missing Dates
Look. This tangled kelp, these squiggles on white
is the maze through which my verse emerged.
Now the kelp’s dead, but I must write,
write till the poison’s purged.
***
Labels: poetry
Selected by SPECKLED_BAND |
23:54 |
1 Comments:
How did you ever come up with kelp? Interesting.
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