mercredi 31 août 2011

The earliest poem I have, 1972

Woman Lying on Floor, Martha Sawyers (1902-1988)

When I woke up this morning,
turning out from my soul,
on my left lay some half-finished,
half-understood philosophy,
leadership potentiality,
an acceptance like the vague 
nodding on a head,
and on my right 
an ashtray lay overturned

I picked my bones up off the wood,
returned the book to its shelf
and swept the floor.
Silently the room turned with the earth,
and I followed suit––
There was nothing more I could do.

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