Louise Bogan

(August 11, 1897 – February 4, 1970 / Maine)

Cassandra


To me, one silly task is like another.
I bare the shambling tricks of lust and pride.
This flesh will never give a child its mother,—
Song, like a wing, tears through my breast, my side,
And madness chooses out my voice again,
Again. I am the chosen no hand saves:
The shrieking heaven lifted over men,
Not the dumb earth, wherein they set their graves.

Submitted: Thursday, April 15, 2010
Edited: Sunday, September 04, 2011

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