Monday, March 9, 2009

e.e. cummings

13

who knows if the moon's
a balloon, coming out of a keen city
in the sky - filled with pretty people?
(and if you and I should

get into it, if they
should take me and take you into their balloon,
why then
we'd go up higher with all the pretty people

than houses and steeples and clouds:
go sailing
away and away sailing into a keen
city which nobody's ever visited, where

always
it's
Spring) and everyone's
in love and flowers pick themselves

e e cummings or e. e. cummings or E. E. Cummings or Edward Estlin Cummings was a poet and painter and play-write and much more.  His peculiar syntax I find alluring; his intentional strewing of punctuation across the page, I quiet my compulsiveness and curiously enjoy.  Because of Cummings' distinct style, it is almost vital that his poetry be read out loud.  And as a result, Cummings continues to masterfully influence the way each poem is revealed to the reader.  So go on, read it aloud a second time around.

[image from The Red Balloon via here]

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