// William Carlos Williams, “Danse Russe”//

lisaahh:

Always love this.

jessethorn:

If I when my wife is sleeping
and the baby and Kathleen
are sleeping
and the sun is a flame-white disc
in silken mists
above shining trees,—
if I in my north room
dance naked, grotesquely
before my mirror
waving my shirt round my head
and singing softly to myself:
“I am lonely, lonely.
I was born to be lonely,
I am best so!”
If I admire my arms, my face,
my shoulders, flanks, buttocks
again the yellow drawn shades,—

Who shall say I am not
the happy genius of my household?

There is a blacksmith,
and there is a shepherd,
and there is a butcher-boy,
and there is a barber, who’s cutting
and cutting away at my only joy.
I saw a rabbit,
as slick as a knife,
and as pale as a candlestick,
and I had thought it’d be harder to do,
but I caught her, 
held her there,
kicking and mewling, 
upended, unspooling, unsung and blue;
told her “wherever you go,
little runaway bunny,
I will find you.”
And then she ran,
as they’re liable to do.

held your bare bones
with my clothes on