You are not, nor were meant to be, Great Oz.
On such a scale, of course, you count for nothing.
Still it must mean something that because
of you I've known such sorrow and self-loathing.
Years will pass, of course they will erase
the pain somewhat. Of course. No doubt
in time I'll lose the memory of your face.
It's not a thing I care to do without,
but time goes on. You'll dwindle till you're small,
then smaller, till you're lost to sight. I'm sure
I'll wonder why I wrote these lines at all --
how unimportant, actually, you were.
And when I write my memoirs, I will laugh,
and sum you all up in a paragraph.
-----
Memoirs? Hah. Not bloody likely.
I think it was about this poem that a friend, on reading it, asked me in surprise, "Duncan -- do you want me to tell you how ambivalent that poem is?" Which let me know that I'd achieved what I was trying to do in it. I still wonder sometimes about his reaction, though: Are poems not allowed to be this ambivalent?
Anyway, it dates from 1979 or 1980.
Showing posts with label great oz. Show all posts
Showing posts with label great oz. Show all posts
Poetry Friday - Great Oz
You are not, nor were meant to be, Great Oz.
On such a scale, of course, you count for nothing.
Still it must mean something that because
of you I've known such sorrow and self-loathing.
Years will pass, of course they will erase
the pain somewhat. Of course. No doubt
in time I'll lose the memory of your face.
It's not a thing I care to do without,
but time goes on. You'll dwindle till you're small,
then smaller, till you're lost to sight. I'm sure
I'll wonder why I wrote these lines at all --
how unimportant, actually, you were.
And when I write my memoirs, I will laugh,
and sum you all up in a paragraph.
-----
Memoirs? Hah. Not bloody likely.
I think it was about this poem that a friend, on reading it, asked me in surprise, "Duncan -- do you want me to tell you how ambivalent that poem is?" Which let me know that I'd achieved what I was trying to do in it. I still wonder sometimes about his reaction, though: Are poems not allowed to be this ambivalent?
Anyway, it dates from 1979 or 1980.
On such a scale, of course, you count for nothing.
Still it must mean something that because
of you I've known such sorrow and self-loathing.
Years will pass, of course they will erase
the pain somewhat. Of course. No doubt
in time I'll lose the memory of your face.
It's not a thing I care to do without,
but time goes on. You'll dwindle till you're small,
then smaller, till you're lost to sight. I'm sure
I'll wonder why I wrote these lines at all --
how unimportant, actually, you were.
And when I write my memoirs, I will laugh,
and sum you all up in a paragraph.
-----
Memoirs? Hah. Not bloody likely.
I think it was about this poem that a friend, on reading it, asked me in surprise, "Duncan -- do you want me to tell you how ambivalent that poem is?" Which let me know that I'd achieved what I was trying to do in it. I still wonder sometimes about his reaction, though: Are poems not allowed to be this ambivalent?
Anyway, it dates from 1979 or 1980.
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