And suppose the darlings get to Mantua,
suppose they cheat the crypt, what next? Begin
with him, unshaven. Though not, I grant you, a
displeasing cockerel, there's egg yolk on his chin.
His seedy robe's aflap, he's got the rheum.
Poor dear, the cooking lard has smoked her eye.
Another Montague is in the womb
although the first babe's bottom's not yet dry.
She scrolls a weekly letter to her Nurse
who dares to send a smock through Balthasar,
and once a month, his father posts a purse.
News from Verona? Always news of war.
Such sour years it takes to right this wrong!
The fifth act runs unconscionably long.

by Maxine Kumin

Other poems of MAXINE KUMIN (22)

Comments (8)

Beautiful. Shakespeare in a new light took us back to Elizabethan Era and back again. Marvellous peice of work.10. Thanks for sharing
This poem has such creative unsual imagery that one may even blush. Always a very plasant rhyme scheme and a fabulous new form. Thank you Maxine
In the womb! Nice work.
Love this one. Truly original.
Great modern love story, I enjoyed it.Thanks for sharing.
See More