“The plain truth is we are going to die. Here I am, a teeny spec surrounded by boundless space and time, arguing with the whole of creation, shaking my fist, sputtering, growing even eloquent at times, and then-poof! I am gone. Swept off once and for all. I think that is very, very funny.” ThinkingWholeDiesSpaceGoneGrowingCreationTruth IsArguingTime And SpaceFistsShakingBoundlessEloquentHere I AmSpecs Author:Charles Simic
“Here in the United States, we speak with reverence of authentic experience. We write poems about our daddies taking us fishing and breaking our hearts by making us throw the little fish back into the river. We even tell the reader the kind of car we were driving, the year and the model, to give the impression that it’s all true. It’s because we think of ourselves as journalists of a kind. Like them, we’ll go anywhere for a story. Don’t believe a word of it. As any poet can tell you, one often sees better with eyes closed than with eyes wide open.” ThinkingGivingWritingYearsBelieveHeartKindLittlesStatesStoriesEyeSpeakUnitedUnited StatesCarPoetReaderModelsRiversDon't BelieveFishesWideDrivingImpressionJournalistFishingReverenceDaddyEyes Wide Open Author:Charles Simic
“I was already dozing off in the shade, dreaming that the rustling trees were my many selves explaining themselves all at the same time so that I could not make out a single word. My life was a beautiful mystery on the verge of understanding, always on the verge! Think of it!” ThinkingSelfDreamBeautifulUnderstandingMysteryTreeShadeExplainingVergeMake OutSingle WordDozing Book:New and Selected Poems: 1962-2012 Source: New and Selected Poems: 1962-2012
