Another William Carlos Williams' poem: Danse Russe.
What I like about this poem is that it makes the unusual seems normal, explainable. Why is N dancing naked about the room? What does it matter? All other members of the house are asleep, it's N's secret. The poem is a shared secret. Huh. Not that N needs our ears. N is perfectly content with his actions and his conclusion: "Who shall say I am not/the happy genius of my household?" Of course he is, there is no space for rebuttal or response, the poem ends immediately after asking the question.
Favorite line: "if I in my north room/dance naked, grotesquely/before my mirror"
Saturday, December 12, 2009
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What do you think of today's poem?