Russell Edson Poems
- Ape You haven't finished your ape, said mother to father, ...
- One Lonely Afternoon Since the fern can't go to the sink for ...
- A Stone Is Nobody's A man ambushed a stone. Caught it. Made ...
- Counting Sheep A scientist has a test tube full of sheep. He ...
- On The Eating Of Mice A woman prepared a mouse for her ...
- Sleep There was a man who didn't know how to sleep; nodding ...
- The Fight A man is fighting with a cup of coffee. The rules: ...
Russell Edson (1935 – April 29, 2014) was an American poet, novelist, writer and illustrator, and the son of the cartoonist-screenwriter Gus Edson.
He studied art early in life and attended the Art Students League as a teenager. He began publishing poetry in the 1960s. His honors as a poet include a Guggenheim fellowship,a Whiting Award, and several fellowships from the National Endowment for the Arts.
Edson published numerous collections of prose poetry, short stories and fables, one novel, The Song of Percival Peacock, and The Falling Sickness: A Book of Plays. His final book was See Jack (University of Pittsburgh Press, 2009).
He lived in Darien, ... more »
Click here to add this poet to your My Favorite Poets.
You haven't finished your ape, said mother to father,
who had monkey hair and blood on his whiskers.
I've had enough monkey, cried father.
You didn't eat the hands, and I went to all the
trouble to make onion rings for its fingers, said mother.
I'll just nibble on its forehead, and then I've had enough,
I stuffed its nose with garlic, just like you like it, said
Why don't you have the butcher cut these apes up? You lay
the whole thing on the table every night; the same fractured
skull, the same singed ...