Between the feathers of Quetzalcoatl,
And the scales,
Between the working title,
And the finished dawn,
He also wrote four essays,
Adding them to earlier writings on the Indians,
And later capping them with memories
Of lemon moonshine.
I, being, peculiarly, myself
Learning of them for this poem,
Will, I imagine read them, hoping,
To spot Clark Savage Senior, in the background
Enroute to Hildalgo.
And the scales,
Between the working title,
And the finished dawn,
He also wrote four essays,
Adding them to earlier writings on the Indians,
And later capping them with memories
Of lemon moonshine.
I, being, peculiarly, myself
Learning of them for this poem,
Will, I imagine read them, hoping,
To spot Clark Savage Senior, in the background
Enroute to Hildalgo.
Postscript:
And startling to read the first I find
The peculiar whistling of the parrots
Almost familiar, enough, to make me
Wish to retcon Doc Savage's
Un-nerving trill,
As his boyhood's memory, of
His father's travels.
And startling to read the first I find
The peculiar whistling of the parrots
Almost familiar, enough, to make me
Wish to retcon Doc Savage's
Un-nerving trill,
As his boyhood's memory, of
His father's travels.
Mornings in Mexico is a collection of travel essays by D. H. Lawrence, first published by Martin Secker in 1927. These brief works display Lawrence's gifts as a travel writer, catching the 'spirit of place' in his own vivid manner.
No comments:
Post a Comment