In the desert
I saw a creature, naked,
bestial,
who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said, "Is it good, friend?"
"It is bitter—bitter,"
he answered;
"But I like it
Because it is bitter,
And because it is
my heart."
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
Still Talking About the Heart
I present to you Stephen Crane's The Heart, and then I'll stop with this heart business for a while. This poem amuses me. Discuss.
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2 comments:
Uh...interestingly disturbing...
gotta love Crane -
Yes, I have a thousand tongues,
And nine and ninety-nine lie.
Though I strive to use the one,
It will make no melody at my will,
But is dead in my mouth.
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