A South California Forest: Difference between revisions
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year_of_publication="1927" | year_of_publication="1927" | ||
genre="Poetry" | genre="Poetry" | ||
publisher=" | publisher="Houghton Mifflin Company" | ||
journal="Ballads for Sale" | journal="Ballads for Sale" | ||
page_range="199-200" | page_range="199-200" | ||
/> | /> | ||
<annotations> | <annotations> | ||
<paragraph keywords="car part, driving, forest, passenger, risk, road, speed, death, tree"> | <paragraph keywords="car part, driving, forest, passenger, risk, road, speed, death, sound, intertext, tree"> | ||
<poem> | <poem> | ||
HUSH, hush, these woods are thick with shapes and | |||
::: voices, | |||
They crowd behind, in front, | They crowd behind, in front, | ||
Scarcely can one’s wheels break through them. | Scarcely can one’s wheels break through them. | ||
| Line 19: | Line 19: | ||
There are butchered victims behind those trees, | There are butchered victims behind those trees, | ||
And what you say is moss I know is the dead hair of | And what you say is moss I know is the dead hair of | ||
hanged men. | : hanged men. | ||
Drive faster, faster. The hair will catch in our wheels and clog them; | Drive faster, faster. | ||
The hair will catch in our wheels and clog them; | |||
We are thrown from side to side by the dead bodies in | We are thrown from side to side by the dead bodies in | ||
the road, | : the road, | ||
Do you not smell the reek of them, | Do you not smell the reek of them, | ||
And see the jaundiced film that hides the stars? | And see the jaundiced film that hides the stars? | ||
Stand on the accelerator. I would rather be bumped to | Stand on the accelerator. I would rather be bumped to | ||
a jelly | ::: a jelly | ||
Than caught by clutching hands I cannot see, | Than caught by clutching hands I cannot see, | ||
Than be stifled by the press of mouths I cannot feel. | Than be stifled by the press of mouths I cannot feel. | ||
| Line 34: | Line 35: | ||
Say prayers if you like, | Say prayers if you like, | ||
Do anything to drown the screaming silence of this | Do anything to drown the screaming silence of this | ||
forest, | ::: forest, | ||
To hide the spinning shapes that jam the trees. | To hide the spinning shapes that jam the trees. | ||
What mystic adventure is this | What mystic adventure is this | ||
Latest revision as of 10:52, 16 July 2024
| Author | Lowell, Amy |
|---|---|
| Genre | Poetry |
| Journal or Book | Ballads for Sale |
| Publisher | Houghton Mifflin Company |
| Year of Publication | 1927 |
| Pages | 199-200 |
| Additional information | - |
HUSH, hush, these woods are thick with shapes and
voices,
They crowd behind, in front,
Scarcely can one’s wheels break through them.
For God’s sake, drive quickly!
There are butchered victims behind those trees,
And what you say is moss I know is the dead hair of
hanged men.
Drive faster, faster.
The hair will catch in our wheels and clog them;
We are thrown from side to side by the dead bodies in
the road,
Do you not smell the reek of them,
And see the jaundiced film that hides the stars?
Stand on the accelerator. I would rather be bumped to
a jelly
Than caught by clutching hands I cannot see,
Than be stifled by the press of mouths I cannot feel.
Not in the light glare, you fool, but on either side of it.
Curse these swift, running trees,
Hurl them aside, leap them, crush them down,
Say prayers if you like,
Do anything to drown the screaming silence of this
forest,
To hide the spinning shapes that jam the trees.
What mystic adventure is this
In which you have engulfed me?
What no-world have you shot us into?
What Dante dream without a farther edge?
Fright kills, they say, and I believe it.
If you would not have murder on your conscience,
For Heaven’s sake, get on!
car partdrivingforestpassengerriskroadspeeddeathsoundintertexttree
