Poetry

Goneril Goneril went up the hill, All pale and wan with slaughter, The King fell down And lost his crown, His hat, his mind, his daughter.

Fat Lady Sings "You don't want to know me. If you do I will love you. I have no use for friends. I only love and will take from you What you cannot afford. The girl who rode past you on her bike is gone To good wife you know not where. Was ever anything you knew would last Born in your dreams, did it grow there? Did you find the wide lawns and shining shade Of a sunny summer morning eagerly attending? Did you find fellowship in common day? You travel in an empty suit and carry in your suitcase Someone else's things. Come here, to us, to me, to me.

Highdown Hill Come with me up this wooded hill, Under a swollen moon afloat in red louds, For here is the Disenchanted Wood, Where at midsummer under a few pale stars Pale in the glare of a carriageway And the yellow lights of  the black plain coast No ghosts appeared, no spirits walked Or groaned or portended. The waste left by Romans, Saxons, and Canadians Stayed in the ground under the rampart's remains. The nocturnal European wasp caused alarm, While overhead people watch movies, The distant sound of  engines reassuring in the red sky.

1. Heedless they go, needless to say, That being said, heedless of head. Whatever we know, whither we go, Whatever be so, hither below. Up on high, high as the sun, Hither and thither and yonder it runs, Needless to say, deedless and dead, Heedless we go, that being said.