Guest poem sent in by Lisa
(Poem #1696) nobody loses all the time nobody loses all the time i had an uncle named Sol who was a born failure and nearly everybody said he should have gone into vaudeville perhaps because my Uncle Sol could sing McCann He Was A Diver on Xmas Eve like Hell Itself which may or may not account for the fact that my Uncle Sol indulged in that possibly most inexcusable of all to use a highfalootin phrase luxuries that is or to wit farming and be it needlessly added my Uncle Sol's farm failed because the chickens ate the vegetables so my Uncle Sol had a chicken farm till the skunks ate the chickens when my Uncle Sol had a skunk farm but the skunks caught cold and died and so my Uncle Sol imitated the skunks in a subtle manner or by drowning himself in the watertank but somebody who'd given my Uncle Sol a Victor Victrola and records while he lived presented to him upon the auspicious occasion of his decease a scruptious not to mention splendiferous funeral with tall boys in black gloves and flowers and everything and i remember we all cried like the Missouri when my Uncle Sol's coffin lurched because somebody pressed a button (and down went my Uncle Sol and started a worm farm) |
I knew if I thought long enough I'd come up with a poem I've been moved to memorize that isn't (insha'allah) on the Minstrels all ready. I love e.e. cummings. My favorite poem is "Anyone lived in a pretty how town" (Poem #1260) which has the most beautiful melody of any poem I've ever encountered. But this is my second favorite. How charming, the description of Uncle Sol; how fitting and even touching that he won at last. And as I contemplate my occasional wins and my frequent losses in this world, it is comforting to realize that no one can lose all the time. Is it symbolic that this perpetual loser is named after the sun -- and if so, how? Or is the poem merely straightforward? Whatever else it does, it shows us a side of cummings we rarely see -- his frivolous side. Lisa
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