Angels
They have little use.
They are best as objects of torment.
No government cares what you do with them.
Like birds, and yet so human .
.
.
They mate by briefly looking at the other.
Their eggs are like white jellybeans.
Sometimes they have been said to inspire a man
to do more with his life than he might have.
But what is there for a man to do with his life?
.
.
.
They burn beautifully with a blue flame.
When they cry out it is like the screech of a tiny hinge;
the cry of a bat.
No one hears it .
.
.
Poem by
Russell Edson
Biography |
Poems
| Best Poems | Short Poems
| Quotes
|
Email Poem |
More Poems by Russell Edson
Comments, Analysis, and Meaning on Angels
Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem Angels here.
Commenting turned off, sorry.