Poem Response 20

Eating Poetry
Mark Strand

Ink runs from the corners of my mouth.

There is no happiness like mine.

I have been eating poetry.

The librarian does not believe what she sees.

Her eyes are sad

and she walks with her hands in her dress.

The poems are gone.

The light is dim.

The dogs are on the basement stairs and coming up.

Their eyeballs roll,

their blond legs burn like brush.

The poor librarian begins to stamp her feet and weep.

She does not understand.

When I get on my knees and lick her hand,

she screams.

I am a new man.

I snarl at her and bark.

I romp with joy in the bookish dark.

Found at: http://poetryoutloud.org/poem/237702

This poem disturbs me.

I mean, sure, don’t we all love poetry, yay us. But seriously? This is a bit much.

And what is “the bookish dark”? How can a dark be ‘bookish’? Scary, surreal, deep, forboding, mysterious, ironic, those are all fine adjectives! I just really don’t understand! So, here’s me thought. If you have an idea as to what a “Bookish Dark” could mean, you should tell me! Write a comment, and help me out some here! It’ll be fun! Poetry is always more fun when you experience it with other people. And if anything else sticks out to you, (Like the first line to me “Ink runs from the corners of my mouth” it’s delightful!) Tell me that too! And we can make this fun, mildly disturbing poem into something really fun!