Danse Russe

by Wolf Pascoe on August 17, 2010

If I when my wife is sleeping
and the baby and Kathleen
are sleeping
and the sun is a flame-white disc
in silken mists
above shining trees,—
if I in my north room
dance naked, grotesquely
before my mirror
waving my shirt round my head
and singing softly to myself:
“I am lonely, lonely.
I was born to be lonely,
I am best so!”
If I admire my arms, my face,
my shoulders, flanks, buttocks
against the yellow drawn shades,—

Who shall say I am not
the happy genius of my household?

William Carlos Williams

Share this:
Share this page via Email Share this page via Stumble Upon Share this page via Digg this Share this page via Facebook Share this page via Twitter

{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }

BigLittleWolf January 20, 2011 at 4:02 pm

I love this poem. Pleasure indeed.

Reply

Wolf Pascoe January 20, 2011 at 5:18 pm

That WC Williams was such a zany guy …

Reply

Leave a Comment

CommentLuv badge

{ 3 trackbacks }

Previous post:

Next post: