Additional Poems By Dorothy Parker Essay Research — страница 2

  • Просмотров 400
  • Скачиваний 13
  • Размер файла 18
    Кб

think that I was Fair enough. Now you’re casting yearning glances At the pale Penelope; Cutting in on Claudia’s dances; Taking Iris out to tea. Iole you find warm-hearted; Zoe’s cheek is far from rough- Don’t you think it’s time we parted? . . . Fair enough! from Enough Rope (1926) Song of Perfect Propriety Oh, I should like to ride the seas, A roaring buccaneer; A cutlass banging at my knees, A dirk behind my ear. And when my captives’ chains would clank I’d howl with glee and drink, And then fling out the quivering plank And watch the beggars sink. I’d like to straddle gory decks, And dig in laden sands, And know the feel of throbbing necks Between my knotted hands. Oh, I should like to strut and curse Among my blackguard crew…. But I am writing little verse,

As little ladies do. Oh, I should like to dance and laugh And pose and preen and sway, And rip the hearts of men in half, And toss the bits away. I’d like to view the reeling years Through unastonished eyes, And dip my finger-tips in tears, And give my smiles for sighs. I’d stroll beyond the ancient bounds, And tap at fastened gates, And hear the prettiest of sound- The clink of shattered fates. My slaves I’d like to bind with thongs That cut and burn and chill…. But I am writing little songs, As little ladies will. from Enough Rope (1926) Social Note Lady, lady, should you meet One whose ways are all discreet, One who murmurs that his wife Is the lodestar of his life, One who keeps assuring you That he never was untrue, Never loved another one . . . Lady, lady, better

run! from Enough Rope (1926) News Item Men seldom make passes At girls who wear glasses. from Enough Rope (1926) Observation If I don’t drive around the park, I’m pretty sure to make my mark. If I’m in bed each night by ten. I may get back my looks again. If I abstain from fun and such. I’ll probably amount to much; But I shall stay the way I am. Because I do not give a damn. from Enough Rope (1926) Symptom Recital I do not like my state of mind; I’m bitter, querulous, unkind. I hate my legs, I hate my hands, I do not yearn for lovelier lands. I dread the dawn’s recurrent light; I hate to go to bed at night. I snoot at simple, earnest folk. I cannot take the gentlest joke. I find no peace in paint or type. My world is but a lot of tripe. I’m disillusioned,

empty-breasted. For what I think, I’d be arrested. I am not sick, I am not well. My quondam dreams are shot to hell. My soul is crushed, my spirit sore; I do not like me any more. I cavil, quarrel, grumble, grouse. I ponder on the narrow house. I shudder at the thought of men…. I’m due to fall in love again. from Enough Rope (1926) Pictures in the Smoke Oh, gallant was the first love, and glittering and fine; The second love was water, in a clear white cup; The third love was his, and the fourth was mine; And after that, I always get them all mixed up. from Enough Rope (1926) Experience Some men break your heart in two, Some men fawn and flatter, Some men never look at you; And that cleans up the matter. from Enough Rope (1926) Ballade at Thirty-five This, no song of an

ing?nue, This, no ballad of innocence; This, the rhyme of a lady who Followed ever her natural bents. This, a solo of sapience, This, a chantey of sophistry, This, the sum of experiments, — I loved them until they loved me. Decked in garments of sable hue, Daubed with ashes of myriad Lents, Wearing shower bouquets of rue, Walk I ever in penitence. Oft I roam, as my heart repents, Through God’s acre of memory, Marking stones, in my reverence, "I loved them until they loved me." Pictures pass me in long review,– Marching columns of dead events. I was tender, and, often, true; Ever a prey to coincidence. Always knew I the consequence; Always saw what the end would be. We’re as Nature has made us — hence I loved them until they loved me. L’ENVOI Princes, never

I’d give offense, Won’t you think of me tenderly? Here’s my strength and my weakness, gents, — I loved them until they loved me. from Enough Rope (1926) A Certain Lady Oh, I can smile for you, and tilt my head, And drink your rushing words with eager lips, And paint my mouth for you a fragrant red, And trace your brows with tutored finger-tips. When you rehearse your list of loves to me, Oh, I can laugh and marvel, rapturous-eyed. And you laugh back, nor can you ever see The thousand little deaths my heart has died. And you believe, so well I know my part, That I am gay as morning, light as snow, And all the straining things within my heart You’ll never know. Oh, I can laugh and listen, when we meet, And you bring tales of fresh adventurings, — Of ladies delicately