Wednesday, July 23, 2008

PULITZER PRIZE WINNER: 1988 - William Meredith


Go, little book. If anybody asks
Why I add poems to a time like this,
Tell how the comeliness I can't take in
Of ships and other figures of content
Compels me still until I give them names;
And how I give them names impatiently,
As who should pull up roses by the roots
That keep him turning on his empty bed,
The smell intolerable and thick with loss.

from "Effort at Speech: New and Selected Poems" by William Meredith,
published by Triquarterly Books/Northwestern University Press in 1997


sam of the ten thousand things said...

What a beautiful and perfect piece of writing. Thanks for this post, Nick. What I wouldn't give to have written the last line.

Nick said...

This poem is so in tune with they way I feel lately that it hit me like a ton of bricks.