Chaplinesque: Difference between revisions
Created page with "<meta author="Crane, Hart" additional_information="The poem was originally published in 1926." year_of_publication="1933" genre="Poetry" publisher="New York: Liveright Publishing Corporation" journal="April Airs: The Collected Poems of Hart Crane" page_range="73-74" /> <annotations> == Chaplinesque == <paragraph keywords=""> <poem> WE make our meek adjustments, Contented with such random consolations As the wind deposits In slithered and too ample pocket..." |
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<meta | <meta author="Crane, Hart" year_of_publication="1926" additional_information="https://archive.org/details/in.ernet.dli.2015.183192/page/n105/mode/2up" genre="Poetry" journal="The Collected Poems of Hart Crane" page_range="73-74"></meta> | ||
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<annotations> | <annotations> | ||
<paragraph keywords=""> | |||
<poem> | |||
</poem> | |||
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<paragraph keywords=""> | <paragraph keywords=""> | ||
<poem> | <poem> | ||
We make our meek adjustments, | |||
Contented with such random consolations | Contented with such random consolations | ||
As the wind deposits | As the wind deposits | ||
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<paragraph keywords=" | <paragraph keywords="town, urban, animal, street, traffic, risk, anthropomorphism"> | ||
<poem> | <poem> | ||
For we can still love | For we can still love the world, who find | ||
A famished kitten on the step, and know | A famished kitten on the step, and know | ||
Recesses for it from the fury of the street | Recesses for it from the fury of the street, | ||
Or warm | Or warm torn elbow coverts. | ||
</poem> | </poem> | ||
</paragraph> | </paragraph> | ||
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More than the pirouettes of any pliant cane; | More than the pirouettes of any pliant cane; | ||
Our obsequies are, in a way, no enterprise. | Our obsequies are, in a way, no enterprise. | ||
We can evade you, and all else but the heart | We can evade you, and all else but the heart: | ||
What blame to us if the heart live on. | What blame to us if the heart live on. | ||
</poem> | </poem> | ||
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</poem> | </poem> | ||
</paragraph> | </paragraph> | ||
</annotations> | </annotations> | ||
Latest revision as of 23:20, 8 April 2026
We make our meek adjustments,
Contented with such random consolations
As the wind deposits
In slithered and too ample pockets.
For we can still love the world, who find
A famished kitten on the step, and know
Recesses for it from the fury of the street,
Or warm torn elbow coverts.
We will sidestep, and to the final smirk
Dally the doom of that inevitable thumb
That slowly chafes its puckered index toward us,
Facing the dull squint with what innocence
And what surprise!
And yet these fine collapses are not lies
More than the pirouettes of any pliant cane;
Our obsequies are, in a way, no enterprise.
We can evade you, and all else but the heart:
What blame to us if the heart live on.
The game enforces smirks; but we have seen
The moon in lonely alleys make
A grail of laughter of an empty ash can,
And through all sound of gaiety and quest
Have heard a kitten in the wilderness.
