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Search Poor Fool
Lear: And my poor fool is hanged. No, no life? Why should a dog, a horse, a rat have life, And thou no breath at all? O, thou wilt come no more, never, never, never. Pray you, undo this button. Thank you, sir. O, O, O, O.
2 comments:
Keith--this poem has been working around the edges of my mind since I first read the post. It's fascinating.
I remember hearing in a workshop (this had to be in '98/'99) that Transtromer had suffered a stroke. We ventured off into specualtion of what that must be like for a psychiatrist and poet if he suffered aphasia.
That's all sidereal I guess. It's a haunting poem for me. And that ties to the memory.
This reinforces my desire to get my hands on that book.
Of the haiku, it really stands out. (I will keep my opinion to myself about that last line, though.)
Reinforcing Desires would be a fun Blog name. Not sure what the Blog's premise would be?
BTW: that pic on your site? those are clearly barfed up cottage cheese curds - that probably went down as large curd, came up small.
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