Grotesque
Grotesque
by Amy Lowell
Why do the lilies goggle their tongues at me
When I pluck them;
And writhe, and twist,
And strangle themselves against my fingers,
So that I can hardly weave the garland
For your hair?
Why do they shriek your name
And spit at me
When I would cluster them?
Must I kill them
To make them lie still,
And send you a wreath of lolling corpses
To turn putrid and soft
On your forehead
While you dance?
Like a Halloween version of a love poem, this brings us dead flowers which struggle horribly before they are picked and need to be 'dealt with'...This is not the usual theme for a love poem but we do get the feeling that the narrator wants to show their love, it's just that it doesn't go as planned.
I really like the imagery in this poem, especially the unquiet flowers and the exasperated tone throughout. Really, this is what romance can feel like for those of us not naturally inclined to the precious flower pressed against the softened heart.
Comments
Post a Comment