suppose
Life is an old man carrying flowers on his head.
young death sits in a cafe
smiling, a piece of money held between
his thumb and first finger
(i say "will he buy flowers" to you a
and "Death is young
life wears velour trousers
life totters, life has a beard" i
say to you who are silent.-"Do you see
Life? he is there and here,
or that, or this
or nothing or an old man 3 thirds
asleep, on his head
flowers, always crying
to nobody something about les
roses les bluets
yes,
wil He buy?
Les belles bottes-oh hear
, pas cheres")
and my love slowly answered I think so. But
I think I see someone else
there is a lady, whose name is Afterwards
she is sitting beside young death, is slender;
likes flowers.
- e. e. Cummings
I find this to hopeful in an inevitable way. I had a great night tonight playing music with a wonderful friend. So i turn on At Dawn and read some of my favorite poetry. e.e. Cummings really knows how to use language to his advantage whether it be cryptic or straight forward. have a great day or night everyone.
-Brick