Sunday, December 05, 2010

Sunday Poetry: ee cummings

pity this busy monster, manunkind

pity this busy monster, manunkind,

not. Progress is a comfortable disease:
your victim (death and life safely beyond)

plays with the bigness of his littleness
--- electrons deify one razorblade
into a mountainrange; lenses extend
unwish through curving wherewhen till unwish
returns on its unself.
A world of made
is not a world of born --- pity poor flesh

and trees, poor stars and stones, but never this
fine specimen of hypermagical

ultraomnipotence. We doctors know

a hopeless case if --- listen: there's a hell
of a good universe next door; let's go

--ee cummings


Blogger Diane said...

This post is way early, but it is a little experiment.

I have been fussing for nearly 2 hours to get a post to publish on wikileaks, but blogger keeps bloggering it up and publishing only a fairly innocuous opening paragraph which does not mention wikileaks.

I think it may be time to look into typepad.

12:25 PM  

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