Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

CreationEarth Nature Photos


 I became a criminal when I fell in love.
Before that I was a waitress.
I didn't want to go to Chicago with you.
I wanted to marry you, I wanted Your wife to suffer.
I wanted her life to be like a play In which all the parts are sad parts.
Does a good person Think this way? I deserve Credit for my courage-- I sat in the dark on your front porch.
Everything was clear to me: If your wife wouldn't let you go That proved she didn't love you.
If she loved you Wouldn't she want you to be happy? I think now If I felt less I would be A better person.
I was A good waitress.
I could carry eight drinks.
I used to tell you my dreams.
Last night I saw a woman sitting in a dark bus-- In the dream, she's weeping, the bus she's on Is moving away.
With one hand She's waving; the other strokes An egg carton full of babies.
The dream doesn't rescue the maiden.

by Louise Gluck
Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem - SirenEmail Poem |
Comment below this ad.

Top Louise Gluck Poems

Analysis and Comments on Siren

Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem Siren here.

Commenting has been disabled for now.