don't get me wrong oblivion
i never loved you kiddo
you that was always sticking around
spoiling me for everyone else
telling how it would make
you nutty if i didn't let you
go the distance
and i gave you my breasts to feel
didn't i
and my mouth to kissO i was too good to you oblivion old kid that's all
and when i might have told you
to go ahead and croak yourselflike
you was always threatening you was
going to do
i didn't
i said go on you interest-
est me
i let you hang around
and whimper
and i've been getting mine
Listen
there's a fellow i love like i never loved anyone else that's six foot two tall with a face any girl would die to kiss and a skin like a little kitten's
that's asked me to go to Murray's tonight with him and see the cabaret and dance you know
well
if he asks me to take another i'm going to and if he asks me to take another after that i'm going to do that and if he puts me into a taxi and tells the driver to take her easy and steer for the morning i'm going to let him and if he starts in right away putting it to me in the cab
i'm not going to whisper
oblivion
do you get me
not that i'm tired of automats and Childs's and handing out ribbons to old ladies that ain't got three teeth and being followed home by pimps and stewed guys and sleeping lonely in a whitewashed room three thousand below Zero oh no
i could stand that
but it's that i'm O Gawd how tired
of seeing the white face of you and
feeling the old hands of you and
being teased and jollied about you
and being prayed and implored and
bribed and threatened
to give you my beautiful white body
kiddo
that's why
e.e. cummings
love is a guess
that deepens
(time is a rose
which opens)
your eyes,my
darling,are two
young worlds of dew
never yet named
a stillness
(wholly undreamed
what frailness)
not quite may
twilight's until
rival your smile
truer how much
than yearning
(newer to touch
than morning)
your life is
only like one
star after rain
e. e. cummings
if there are any heavens my mother will(all by herself)have
one. It will not be a pansy heaven nor
a fragile heaven of lilies-of-the-valley but
it will be a heaven of blackred roses
my father will be(deep like a rose
tall like a rose)
standing near my
(swaying over her
silent)
with eyes which are really petals and see
nothing with the face of a poet really which
is a flower and not a face with
hands
which whisper
This is my beloved my
(suddenly in sunlight
he will bow,
& the whole garden will bow)
e.e. cummings
Layout Provided By CodeMyLayout.com - Myspace Layouts
