Poetry time! Sure, whatever, I'm posting poetry to my blog. It's totally different from posting the lyrics to Evanescence songs, for the record. It's POETRY! It's classy! It's also, specifically, Dorothy Parker. I had printed it out ages ago, taped it to some wall of my bedroom, and just now rediscovered it. And it's great. So shut your freakin' trap and read it.
Symptom Recital
I do not like my state of mind;
I'm bitter, querulous, unkind.
I hate my legs, I hate my hands,
I do not yearn for lovelier lands.
I dread the dawn's recurrent light;
I hate to go to bed at night.
I snoot at simple, earnest folk.
I cannot take the simplest joke.
I find no peace in paint or type.
My world is but a lot of tripe.
I'm disillusioned, empty-breasted.
For what I think, I'd be arrested.
I am not sick. I am not well.
My quondam dreams are shot to hell.
My soul is crushed, my spirit sore:
I do not like me any more.
I cavil, quarrel, grumble, grouse.
I ponder on the narrow house.
I shudder at the thought of men.
I'm due to fall in love again.Labels: in which our heroine, poetry time
posted by Liz # 5:30 PM
Comments:
Thanks for posting this - she good; it seems that Dorothy P never gets her props, as if her misanthropy and alcoholism disqualifies her for being taken seriously (the literary gatekeepers would like to note: this distinction applies to the gals only. Otherwise we'd have no heroes.)
I hadn't read this poem in ages, so cheers!
# posted by: November 3, 2007 7:29:00 PM PDT
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