XkelseyX• Show poetry

all the magic we believed in becoming MADness.Delirium.
.





EE CUMMINGS-from ViVa




XLV
             you
            in win
           ter who sit
          dying thinking
         huddled behind dir
        ty glass mind muddled
       and cuddled by dreams( or some
      times vacantly gazing through un
     washed panes into crisp todo of
    murdering uncouth faces which pass rap
   idly with their breaths.)"people are walking deaths
  in this season"think "finality lives up
 on them a little more openly than usual
hither,thither who briskly busily carry the as
tonishing & spontaneous & difficult ugliness
of themselveswith a more incisive simplicity a  
 more intensively brutal futility"And sit
  huddling dumbly behind three or two partly tran
   sparent panes which by some loveless trick sepa  
    rate one stilled unmoving mind from a hun
     dred doomed hurrying brains( by twos
      or threes which fiercely rapidly
       pass with their breaths)in win
        ter you think,die slow
         ly "toc tic" as i
          have seen trees(in
           whose black bod
            ies leaves
             hide









XXIX
in a middle of a room
stands a suicide
sniffing a Paper rose
smiling to a self

"somewhere it is Spring and
people are in real:imagine
somewhere real flowers,but
I can't imagine real flowers for it I

could,they would somehow
not Be real"
(so he smiles
smiling)"but I will not

everywhere be real to
you in a moment"
The is blond
with small hands

"& everything is easier
than I had guessed everything would
be;even remembering the way who
looked at whom first,anyhow dancing'

(a moon swims out of a cloud
a clock strikes midnight
a finger pulls a trigger
a bird flies into a mirror)







cupid is fake cos cummings is dead, and i sware he was meant for someone of this generation.....