Wallace Stevens

(October 2, 1879 – August 2, 1955 / Pennsylvania / United States)

Table Talk - Poem by Wallace Stevens

Granted, we die for good.
Life, then, is largely a thing
Of happens to like, not should.

And that, too, granted, why
Do I happen to like red bush,
Grey grass and green-gray sky?

What else remains? But red,
Gray, green, why those of all?
That is not what I said:

Not those of all. But those.
One likes what one happens to like.
One likes the way red grows.

It cannot matter at all.
Happens to like is one
Of the ways things happen to fall.


Comments about Table Talk by Wallace Stevens

  • Silver Star - 3,321 Points Smoky Hoss (3/1/2015 3:04:00 PM)

    I just happen to like this poem... (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Monday, February 28, 2011



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