poetry for the Last day of May
Picasso
Picasso
you give us things
which
bulge:grunting lungs pumped full of sharp thick mind
you make us shrill
presents always
shut in the sumptuous screech of
simplicity
(out of the
black unbunged
Something gushes vaguely a squeak of planes
or
between squeals of
Nothing grabbed with circular shrieking tightness
solid screams whispers.)
Lumberman of the Distinct
your brain's
axe only chops hugest inherent
Trees of Ego,from
whose living and biggest
bodies lopped
of every
prettiness
you hew form truly
from XLI Poems (1925)
ee cummings
1 comment:
That’s a great poem. When you mentioned E.E. Cummings earlier this week, I remembered how much I had liked his work when I was younger. In fact, I recalled that reading about the “goat-footed balloonMan” was the first time I had ever noticed a poem. It’s a bit like remembering the great discovery of girls. Thank you
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