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Elizabeth Bishop

(8 February 1911 – 6 October 1979 / Worcester, Massachusetts)

Poems of Elizabeth Bishop

61. The Monument 1/3/2003
62. The Moose 1/3/2003
63. The Shampoo 1/3/2003
64. The Unbeliever 1/3/2003
65. The Weed 1/3/2003
66. To Be Written on the Mirror in Whitewash 1/3/2003
67. Trouvée 1/3/2003
68. View of the Capitol from the Library of Congress 1/3/2003
69. Visits to St Elizabeths 1/3/2003
70. While Someone Telephones 1/3/2003

Strayed Crab

This is not my home. How did I get so far from water? It must
be over that way somewhere.
I am the color of wine, of tinta. The inside of my powerful
right claw is saffron-yellow. See, I see it now; I wave it like a
flag. I am dapper and elegant; I move with great precision,
cleverly managing all my smaller yellow claws. I believe in the
oblique, the indirect approach, and I keep my feelings to myself.
But on this strange, smooth surface I am making too much
noise. I wasn't meant

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