As it turns out, I like some poetry. All these years I thought it was boring and dry and confusing and pointless! Today I started reading some Ezra Pound as part of a little project for a friend (I’d previously rolled my eyes at Mr. Pound, simply because it was poetry and because I wanted to annoy Jerry). It turns out I feel a little something stirring inside me when I read some of his work (don’t tell Jerry!). Some of it is still too long and boring, but hey, baby steps.
The Plunge by Ezra Pound
I would bathe myself in strangeness:
These comforts heaped upon me, smother me!
I burn, I scald so for the new,
New friends, new faces,
Oh to be out of this,
This that is all I wanted
– save the new.
Love, you the much, the more desired!
Do I not loathe all walls, streets, stones,
All mire, mist, all fog,
All ways of traffic?
You, I wold have flow over me like water,
Oh, but far out of this!
Grass, and low fields, and hills,
Oh, sun enough!
Out, and alone, among some