John Paul and Willie
I just got a big fat review copy of The Oxford Book of American Poetry, an impressive new anthology edited by David Lehman. Because April is National Poetry Month, I offer you this from the book. It's by Sharon Olds, originally published in The Gold Cell (1987).
The Pope's Penis
It hangs deep in his robes, a delicate
clapper at the center of a bell.
It moves when he moves, a ghostly fish in a
halo of silver seaweed, the hair
swaying in the dark and the heat -- and at night
while his eyes sleep, it stands up
in praise of God.
Olds talks about that poem, among other things, in a Salon.com interview from 1999.
The Pope's Penis
It hangs deep in his robes, a delicate
clapper at the center of a bell.
It moves when he moves, a ghostly fish in a
halo of silver seaweed, the hair
swaying in the dark and the heat -- and at night
while his eyes sleep, it stands up
in praise of God.
Olds talks about that poem, among other things, in a Salon.com interview from 1999.
posted by Billy at 4:05 PM
3 Comments:
what can one say about this topic? sharon should stop thinking those thoughts (and committing them to print) or she'll find herself being keeping company with salman rushdie, hehe.
i'm a little disturbed now.
*must think of something else*
vuboq, **newsflash** you are a lot disturbed
billy, sorry i beat you to it. i know it is exactly the kind of rigorous intellectual exchange you want to generate and i am happy to oblige
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