Friday, December 5, 2008

Poetry Friday: ee cummings


my sweet old etcetera
aunt lucy during the recent

war could and what
is more did tell you just
what everybody was fighting

for,
my sister

isabel created hundreds
(and
hundreds) of socks not to
mention shirts fleaproof earwarmers

etcetera wristers etcetera, my
mother hoped that

i would die etcetera
bravely of course my father used
to become hoarse talking about how it was
a privilege and if only he
could meanwhile my

self etcetera lay queitly
in the deep mud et

cetera
(dreaming,

et
cetera, of
Your smile
eyes knees and of your Etcetera)

7 comments:

david elzey said...

a beloved classic from edward estlin etcetera. thanks for that.

deowriter said...

Love this. Don't you just love this word: etcetera
Thank you for sharing.

poemhome said...

Thank you from the bottom of my etcetera

Jules at 7-Imp said...

Whoa. Thanks for that.

Kelly Fineman said...

I loved that - not one I was familiar with. The use of that one word (spelled out, not abbreviated) to signify so many things, trivial and huge, was really interesting.

Kelly said...

Interesting how etcetera could be so poetic!

jama said...

One of my all-time fave poets. Nice to read this poem again. Thanks!