Cuntface Damsel In Distress just reminded me of this goddamned poem by William Carlos Williams, who apparently has lots of opinions about my marriage this week.(Dear Dr. Williams, if you must send me poetic messages from your grave, could you please send them with less infuriating frequency? Yes, I loathed your work as an undergraduate. Yes, I submit to its relevance, crispness, and chill beauty now. I'm sorry I didn't like you and called you cold and male and said that your name was stupid when I was but a wee girl of twenty years. OK? Can we stop this now?)
Anyway, while these poems keeping popping up in that bitch-slapping, higher-power proving kind of way, I continue to find them very sexy and repulsive and annoying. How dare he:
This is just to say
I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox
and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast
Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold
How dare he eat her breakfast and leave her that sexy poem note! How dare he!
Yes, darling wife, I took your stuff, that was yours and necessary in the most basic, breakfast way. I know you might have thought of those cool plums last night and how they'd be great in the morning. But alas! I am very sexy, very needy, and a tortured artist, and so I take your things and leave you with an empty belly and this thin sliver of beauty, ripped right out of my tortured little heart. Forgive me and love me! I know you're hungry now, but look at how I bat my long eyelashes and make your world more beautiful! Fill you belly with my loveliness!
