Saturday, June 28, 2008

Yeats, now Robinson

Have you ever read the poem Richard Cory? We read it for English 11 in high school, but I'd forgotten about it until my Public Speaking textbook mentioned it.
The poem is haunting. The first time I read those last two lines, I'm sure my eyes widened.
Whenever Richard Cory went down town,
We people on the pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean favored and imperially slim.

And he was always quietly arrayed,
And he was always human when he talked,
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
"Good-morning," and he glittered when he walked.

And he was rich--yes, richer than a king--
And admirably schooled in every grace:
In fine, we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.

So on we worked, and waited for the light,
And went without the meat and cursed the bread;
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.

--Courtesy of
Edwin Arlington Robinson

Mitch came over for dinner: roast chicken, gelatin with blueberries and raspberries mixed in, scalloped potatoes, bread and butter, and a big glass of milk. Like all other times I eat at home nowadays, I let Boris and Sadie lick off my plate when I finished. Sometimes, they get pieces of meat I don't want, but none was left this time.
Earlier, Mom had me hang some of my freshly-washed clothes outside on the line. After doing so, I figured I should take advantage of the opportunity outside on a nice day to spend some time with the dogs, so instead of sitting in the grass, I sat in the laundry basket--yes, I fit--and commenced petting. Of course, I would have been equally as happy not having to dirty my hands, but animals have a way of needing to be touched.

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