Dorothy Parker

(22 August 1893 - 7 June 1967 / Long Branch / New Jersey)

Symptom Recital

Poem by Dorothy Parker

I do not like my state of mind;
I'm bitter, querulous, unkind.
I hate my legs, I hate my hands,
I do not yearn for lovelier lands.
I dread the dawn's recurrent light;
I hate to go to bed at night.
I snoot at simple, earnest folk.
I cannot take the gentlest joke.
I find no peace in paint or type.
My world is but a lot of tripe.
I'm disillusioned, empty-breasted.
For what I think, I'd be arrested.
I am not sick, I am not well.
My quondam dreams are shot to hell.
My soul is crushed, my spirit sore;
I do not like me any more.
I cavil, quarrel, grumble, grouse.
I ponder on the narrow house.
I shudder at the thought of men....
I'm due to fall in love again.

Comments about Symptom Recital by Dorothy Parker

  • David (8/26/2018 12:05:00 AM)

    I love her poetry. She is as fresh today as when she published these dear creatures.(Report)Reply

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  • John Richter (4/7/2015 7:57:00 AM)

    OMG, Dorothy... I freaking love you... Why did you live before I? Your poetry doesn't chase rainbows, or forlorning stars, or sprinkles of sparkly things - its just human - so open, honest, bare.... what a force to reckon with...(Report)Reply

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Read poems about / on: hate, sick, house, peace, light, world, night, dream

Poem Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003