{"id":5682,"date":"2007-04-20T17:26:00","date_gmt":"2007-04-20T11:56:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.indiauncut.com\/?p=833"},"modified":"2007-04-20T17:26:00","modified_gmt":"2007-04-20T11:56:00","slug":"emptiness-by-stephen-dunn","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/indiauncut.com\/emptiness-by-stephen-dunn\/","title":{"rendered":"Emptiness"},"content":{"rendered":"
In response to this post<\/a>, and previous discussions of Tristesse<\/a>, Sanjeev<\/a> send me this magnificent poem by Stephen Dunn<\/a>:<\/p>\n Emptiness<\/b><\/p>\n I’ve learned mine can’t be filled, Better, I know now, to dress it plain, But she’s amazed © Stephen Dunn. Ah, alchemy…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" In response to this post<\/a>, and previous discussions of Tristesse<\/a>, Sanjeev<\/a> send me this magnificent poem by Stephen Dunn<\/a>:<\/p>\n Emptiness<\/b><\/p>\n I’ve learned mine can’t be filled, Better, I know now, to dress it plain, But she’s amazed\n
\nonly alchemized. Many times
\nit’s become a paragraph or a page.
\nBut usually I’ve hidden it,
\nnot knowing until too late
\nhow enormous it grows in its dark.
\nOr how obvious it gets
\nwhen I’ve donned, say, my good
\ncordovans and my fine tweed vest
\nand walked into a room with a smile.
\nI might as well have been a man
\nwith a fez and a faux silver cane.<\/p>\n
\nto say out loud
\nto some right person
\nin some right place
\nthat there’s something not there
\nin me, something I can’t name.
\nThat some right person
\nhas just lit a fire under the kettle.
\nShe hasn’t said a word.
\nBeneath her blue shawl
\nshe, too, conceals a world.<\/p>\n
\nhow much I seem to need my emptiness,
\namazed I won’t let it go.<\/p>\n
\nEverything Else In The World<\/a><\/i>.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n
\nonly alchemized. Many times
\nit’s become a paragraph or a page.
\nBut usually I’ve hidden it,
\nnot knowing until too late
\nhow enormous it grows in its dark.
\nOr how obvious it gets
\nwhen I’ve donned, say, my good
\ncordovans and my fine tweed vest
\nand walked into a room with a smile.
\nI might as well have been a man
\nwith a fez and a faux silver cane.<\/p>\n
\nto say out loud
\nto some right person
\nin some right place
\nthat there’s something not there
\nin me, something I can’t name.
\nThat some right person
\nhas just lit a fire under the kettle.
\nShe hasn’t said a word.
\nBeneath her blue shawl
\nshe, too, conceals a world.<\/p>\n
\nhow much I seem to need my emptiness,
\namazed I won’t let it go.<\/p>\n