Thursday, September 21, 2017
The squirrels in the morning flew
from the fence top to the sunflowers,
ripe were the seeds, striped with white.
They gorged from the down-turned platters
slanted at maturity, chewing away
even the plate's pith matter.
Tail to nose ran their seasoned fur:
the black squirrels and the grey squirrels
started no war; each occupied
having fresh, fattening seeds
from a penitential sunflower.
Tuesday, September 19, 2017
Monday, September 18, 2017
I finally got around to reading Titus Andronicus, and finished it last night. Not that I was saying to myself these years, "You know, you really need to read Titus Andronicus".
Because whenever I would read about the play, the consensus was always 1. it's Shakespeare's least good play - flat as a board, and 2. it's so very violent and did we mention the violence?
The second point would only help to redound the first point. And then I would say to the consensus, "Surely it's not that violent, and because you are looking at it in light of Shakespeare's other plays, perhaps you people are rather exaggerating what is quantitatively only a few more corpses?"
Having now read the play, I take that back.
And certainly it is flat, but yet there are inspired passages that crackle out here and there with that cap gun smell you knew as a kid after you shot off the entire round in two seconds.