“What do you think of when you think of mourning?' Jenny asks. The question snaps me back to attention. I answer without really thinking. "I guess 'Funeral Blues' by W.H. Auden. I think it was Auden. I suppose that's not very original.' 'I don't know it.' 'It's a poem.' 'I gathered.' 'I'm just clarifying. It's not a blues album.' Jenny ignores my swipe at her intelligence. 'Does your response need to be original? Isn't that what poetry is for, for the poet to express something so personal that it ultimately is universal?' I shrug. Who is Jenny, even new Jenny, to say what poetry is for? Who am I for that matter? 'Why do you thin of that poem in particular?' "Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, / Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone, / Silence the pianos and with muffled drum / Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.' I learned the poem in college and it stuck.” DeathPoetryDyingPoemTherapyMourningAudenWh Auden Book:Lily and the Octopus Source: Lily and the Octopus
“John and I noticed that whenever we talked about our children Wystan reached for his cats.” ChildrenHomosexualityCatsWh Auden Author:Thekla Clark
“The Auden/Kallman relationship had this to be said for it: It affirmed that it's better to be blatant than latent.” RelationshipsComing OutHomosexualityThe ClosetWh AudenChester Kallman Author:Christopher Hitchens