Tuesday, August 30, 2005

Childish graffiti on an Elizabeth Bishop poem

Out on the high "bird islands," Ciboux and Hertford,
the razorbill auks and the silly-looking puffins all stand
with their backs to the mainland
in solemn, uneven lines along the cliff's brown grass-frayed edge,
while the few sheep pastured there go "Baaa, baaa."
(Sometimes, frightened by aeroplanes, they stampede
and fall over into the sea or onto the rocks,
and I say "Haaa, haaa.")

Not really up-to-snuff unsullied original here.

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