Margaret Atwood Poems
|1.||The Circle Game||9/8/2015|
|2.||Death of a Young Son by Drowning||6/23/2015|
|4.||They Eat Out||10/21/2006|
|6.||Backdropp Addresses Cowboy||1/2/2004|
|8.||The Shadow Voice||1/2/2004|
|9.||Flying Inside Your Own Body||1/3/2003|
|12.||Sekhmet, The Lion-Headed Goddess Of War||1/3/2003|
|15.||In The Secular Night||1/3/2003|
|16.||Morning In The Burned House||1/20/2003|
|18.||More And More||1/3/2003|
|20.||The City Planners||1/3/2003|
|21.||Variations On The Word Love||1/3/2003|
|22.||Variation On The Word Sleep||1/13/2003|
|24.||This Is A Photograph Of Me||1/3/2003|
|27.||Helen Of Troy Does Countertop Dancing||1/20/2003|
|28.||You Fit Into Me||1/3/2003|
|30.||A Sad Child||1/3/2003|
Comments about Margaret Atwood
A Sad Child
You're sad because you're sad.
It's psychic. It's the age. It's chemical.
Go see a shrink or take a pill,
or hug your sadness like an eyeless doll
you need to sleep.
Well, all children are sad
but some get over it.
Count your blessings. Better than that,
buy a hat. Buy a coat or pet.
Take up dancing to forget.
Your sadness, your shadow,
whatever it was that was done to you
the day of the lawn party
when you came inside flushed with the sun,
your mouth sulky with sugar,
in your new dress with the ribbon
and the ice-cream ...
In The Secular Night
In the secular night you wander around
alone in your house. It's two-thirty.
Everyone has deserted you,
or this is your story;
you remember it from being sixteen,
when the others were out somewhere, having a good time,
or so you suspected,
and you had to baby-sit.
You took a large scoop of vanilla ice-cream