Thursday, June 7, 2012

I Won't Grow Up

2. I've posted this poem before (I think it was actually part of the very first post I ever made on this blog), but it is the best poem about growing up that I know. 

my mind is
a big hunk of irrevocable nothing which touch and taste and smell
and hearing and sight keep hitting and chipping with sharp fatal
in an agony of sensual chisels i perform squirms of chrome and ex
-ecute strides of cobalt
nevertheless i
feel that i cleverly am being altered that i slightly am becoming
something a little different, in fact
Hereupon helpless i utter lilac shrieks and scarlet bellowings.
e.e. cummings
3. If it means I must prepare to shoulder burdens with a worried air...

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