d'après H. Heine


Al incendiario talle de mi dama
dediqué un preciso caligrama.

Un crítico elogió el poema visual
que compuse a sus ojos:
"Sin igual".

Y qué impactante haiku le escribiera
al corazón, si corazón tuviera.


La Suerte es una cualquiera,
no quiere a un solo marido:
en los labios, lisonjera,
te da un beso y ya se ha ido.

Doña Desgracia, al contrario,
no llega sin su maleta.
Y en tu cama, sin horario,
se sienta y hace calceta.


Comments (3)

when was the poem made
Great poem! good Job!
Well, history Here we are, Hayden, at war in Iraq and Afghanistan, and sizing up Yemen as I write. I came on this poem of Carruth on my way to Google up information about The Week of the Angry Arts that took place in NYC around 1967, a big event that engaged scores and maybe hundreds of writers and artists in public readings, displays, and performances through a full week. Now here in snowbound northern Vermont, some of us are toying with ideas about artists here collaborating on protest with pen and brush against our rising habit of war.