A Sad Child by Margaret Atwood
You’re sad because you’re sad.
It’s psychic. It’s the age. It’s chemical.
Go see a shrink or take a pill,
or hug your sadness like an eyeless doll
you need to sleep.
(more…)
You’re sad because you’re sad.
It’s psychic. It’s the age. It’s chemical.
Go see a shrink or take a pill,
or hug your sadness like an eyeless doll
you need to sleep.
(more…)
You waste the attention of your eyes,
the glittering labour of your hands,
and knead the dough enough for dozens of loaves
(more…)
And let her loves, when she is dead,
Write this above her bones:
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Someone was saying
something about shadows covering the field, about
how things pass, how one sleeps towards morning
and the morning goes.
(more…)
Groping back to bed after a piss
I part the thick curtains, and am startled by
The rapid clouds, the moon’s cleanliness.
(more…)
O THE sad day!
When friends shall shake their heads, and say
Of miserable me–
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The Captain becomes moody at sea. He’s
afraid of water; such bully amounts that prove the
seas. . .
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There was a man whom Sorrow named his Friend,
And he, of his high comrade Sorrow dreaming,
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All night long the hockey pictures
gaze down at you
sleeping in your tracksuit.
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With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb’st the skies!
How silently, and with how wan a face!
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