The first two lines of this poem are incredibly awkward. You can iamb them. You can do whatever you want, but they don't flow well. I'm sorry.
And inconvenient, in a way. This house reflects
The way I live. It's filled with trash, the floor
A sea on which a fleet of dusty balls sets sail
With every gust of wind. The dishes stacked
Beside the sink would thrill an archaeologist.
If you are one, you must be pleased, each layer
Showing how the native ate each day, and
What he drank: a lot of gin, I must confess.
And in the living room, a stack of clothes
Which are not put away, a blossom, you could
Call it that, of papers that have come and
Were not wholly read, and mail, and pairs
Of shoes, and fingernails. I'll ask you in,
The reason why you're here unclear, your
Presence somewhat inconvenient. Nonetheless,
I'm very glad you came.
Poetry by Lawrence Beck
Read 24 times
Written on 2011-06-16 at 00:58
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An Unexpected Visitor
Why you would show up now is unclear to me,And inconvenient, in a way. This house reflects
The way I live. It's filled with trash, the floor
A sea on which a fleet of dusty balls sets sail
With every gust of wind. The dishes stacked
Beside the sink would thrill an archaeologist.
If you are one, you must be pleased, each layer
Showing how the native ate each day, and
What he drank: a lot of gin, I must confess.
And in the living room, a stack of clothes
Which are not put away, a blossom, you could
Call it that, of papers that have come and
Were not wholly read, and mail, and pairs
Of shoes, and fingernails. I'll ask you in,
The reason why you're here unclear, your
Presence somewhat inconvenient. Nonetheless,
I'm very glad you came.
Poetry by Lawrence Beck
Read 24 times
Written on 2011-06-16 at 00:58
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text| Texts |
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