Wednesday, April 01, 2009

In honor of National Poetry Month, a work from William Carlos Williams:
so much depends
upon

a red wheel
barrow

glazed with rain
water

beside the white
chickens.
If I'm teaching juniors next year, I'm so assigning essays on this bad boy. They'll hate me. They'll call me "Wheelbarrow." Yeah.
i couldn't wait
to grade

your wheel barrow
essays

but i still shredded
them up

along with the white
chickens.

2 comments:

John said...

Have I ever told you my feelings regarding WCW? The only poet I hate more than him is Frost. I say "elves" to his wheel barrow.

Digger Blue said...

Something there is that doesn't love a John,
that sends it under the frozen ground swell and upchucks it
all over his red wheelbarrow...

Beat that with a stick, Wordsworth.