Written by
Donald Hall |
A storm was coming, that was why it was dark.
The wind was blowing the fronds of the palm trees off.
They were maples.
I looked out the window across the big lawn.
The house was huge, full of children and old people.
The lion was loose.
Either because of the wind, or by malevolent human energy, which is the same thing, the cage had come open.
Suppose a child walked outside!
A child walked outside.
I knew that I must protect him from the lion.
I threw myself on top of the child.
The lion roared over me.
In the branches and the bushes there was suddenly a loud crackling.
The lion cringed.
I looked up and saw that the elephant was loose!
The elephant was taller than the redwoods.
He was hairy like a mammoth.
His tusks trailed vines.
Parrots screeched around his head.
His eyes rolled crazily.
He trumpeted.
The ice-cap was breaking up!
The lion backed off, whining.
The boy ran for the house.
I covered his retreat, locked all the doors and pulled the bars across them.
An old lady tried to open a door to get a better look.
I spoke sharply to her, she sat down grumbling and pulled a blanket over her knees.
Out of the window I saw zebras and rattlesnakes and wildebeests and cougars and woodchucks on the lawns and in the tennis courts.
I worried how, after the storm, we would put the animals back in their cages, and get to the mainland.
|
Written by
Rainer Maria Rilke |
As on all its sides a kitchen-match darts white
flickering tongues before it bursts into flame:
with the audience around her, quickened, hot,
her dance begins to flicker in the dark room.
And all at once it is completely fire.
One upward glance and she ignites her hair
and, whirling faster and faster, fans her dress
into passionate flames, till it becomes a furnace
from which, like startled rattlesnakes, the long
naked arms uncoil, aroused and clicking.
And then: as if the fire were too tight
around her body, she takes and flings it out
haughtily, with an imperious gesture,
and watches: it lies raging on the floor,
still blazing up, and the flames refuse to die -
Till, moving with total confidence and a sweet
exultant smile, she looks up finally
and stamps it out with powerful small feet.
|