Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership




Pickle Belt

Comment on Pickle Belt and see more Theodore Roethke poems below.

Written by Theodore Roethke

Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem - Pickle BeltEmail Poem

 The fruit rolled by all day.
They prayed the cogs would creep; They thought about Saturday pay, And Sunday sleep.
Whatever he smelled was good: The fruit and flesh smells mixed.
There beside him she stood,-- And he, perplexed; He, in his shrunken britches, Eyes rimmed with pickle dust, Prickling with all the itches Of sixteen-year-old lust.


Comment below this ad.

Top Theodore Roethke Poems

Comments