Ghazal of the Better-Unbegun
Too volatile, am I?too voluble?too much a word-person?
I blame the soup:I'm a primordially
Two pronouns and a vehicle was Icarus with wings.
The apparatus of his selves made an ab-
The sound I make is sympathy's:sad dogs are tied afar.
But howling I become an ever more un-
I need a hundred more of you to make a likelihood.
The mirror's not convincing-- that at-best in-
As time's revealing gets revolting, I start looking out.
Look in and what you see is one unholy
The only cure for birth one doesn't love to contemplate.
Better to be an unsung song, an unoc-
McHugh, you'll be the death of me -- each self and second studied!
Addressing you like this, I'm halfway to the
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Comments about this poem (Ghazal of the Better-Unbegun by Heather McHugh )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
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