♕ |[62]| Unreal City, Under the brown fog of a winter dawn

[had_not_lived]

APRIL is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers.
Ever since I read that I can't help thinking of it in April. I don't think I agree. Maybe April's cruel here-- any month

Comments

[repeatshimself]

April needs to sharpen up, in that poem.

[had_not_lived]

I think that's the poet's problem-- April causes too much of a fuss.

[repeatshimself]

Have I mentioned lately that I almost failed the poetry part of English?

[had_not_lived]

Why?

[repeatshimself]

Not everyone is as devoted to rhyming as you are.

[had_not_lived]

Poetry doesn't have to rhyme.

[repeatshimself]

Well...okay, I'll accept that.

[had_not_lived]

I didn't much like it either until Mr. Keating, really.

[repeatshimself]

I guess I am missing the prop----

PRIVATE

Who is the Todd stunt double?

private;

[had_not_lived]

How should I know?

private;

[repeatshimself]

You're the one talking to him!

private;

[had_not_lived]

That doesn't mean I know anything.

private;

[repeatshimself]

You're terrible at this game.

private;

[had_not_lived]

I didn't realize I was playing.

private;

[repeatshimself]

There's a guy that looks like your uh. Friend? And you don't know who he is?

If someone showed up looking like Teddy I'd have his name, rank, and serial number.

private;

[had_not_lived]

Have you met Dr. Wilson?