Monday, April 4, 2016

worm poem (k thx bai)

“With dawn  pinking the eastern sky
and the early bird  chirping  over its early worm …”
-- P.G. Wodehouse, Service with a Smile (1961)

That status of that passage  is rather fraught.  It is not truly Found Poetry;  for, though it appeared originally in straight prose, and though it is (if you like) rather poetic, it was never intended as unselfconscious prose-poetry:  rather, it was a burlesque of such language in a purely comic context.  And yet -- Its utterance (on the lips of that irresponsible/irrepressible way, Uncle Fred) -- does remind us, somehow, of the sweetness of such visions, even so expressed, before jadedness and taedium vitae set in …

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