Monday, November 7, 2011

Later Sonnet (Edwin Denby)

In a hotelroom a madman
Breaks off armchair leg, brains me
Asleep; clever Paris surgeon
Extracts stomach; been killed nearly
Who hasn’t, the much worse rents of love
Even of selfesteem survived
Left shamefully but glad to still live
Watch the rich hide, watch the poor hide
Death’s dread; trapped when I turn toward friends
Long dead when I found them, poets
Who when I’m crazed give my heart strength
By their tone of voice they do it
Some of their death-dread can be shook
Jumping across, eyes read a book


Top:  Jean Helion, Untitled, 1943

Bottom: Jean Helion, Untitled, 1943


  1. Perfect post, Curtis. Superb in every conceivable way.

  2. Thank you VERY much. It's good to have someone else's perfect articulation to rely on. I've just been writing a letter that, in its current form, is very awkward and painful to re-read. Getting there, I guess... Curtis