David McLansky

Veteran Poet - 1,602 Points (5/24/1944 / New York City)

Thoreau's Wife - Poem by David McLansky

Said Thoreau's nagging,
Screaming wife,
'What makes you think
Your boring life
Is so important
To be writ down?
All you do
Is lay aroiund
Like any lazy
Bum in town.'

Said Thoreau
To his screaming wife,
'Each man's lot
Of mortal strife
Is worth the record
Of a page...'

But then she answered
In a rage,
'All you do is
Sit and write!
You keep me up
Half the night!
But you're sooo smart...
You're soooo bright.
You're good for nothing!
Ma was right!
We have no friends,
No furniture;
You say I'm dumb
And immature?
You sit around
And watch the trees,
You're watching ants
Ass up on knees!
And all you want
Is to have your sex;
And then you wonder
Why I'm vexed?
We live like tramps...
This shanty house!
I'm not your whore,
You queer church mouse!
You're like your father,
That useless bum,
I know the seed
From which you're sprung!
You dream and dream
The day away:
Why can't you work?
Oh, go away! '

Said Thoreau,
Grabbing for her hand,
'Please try and listen,
Not wealth nor jewels
Nor property
Defines a soul's
A kind and loving
Family life,
Makes kings of men
And queens of wife.'

'So you say
With your flowery words,
Oh, we should live
Just like the birds!
Well, I'm a stupid
Human being!
I want new clothes,
Commands your Queen! '

By a candle
Late at night,
By the dim
And flickering light,
In his Journal
Thoreau writes:

'Socrates, poor and harried,
Was never bored
Because he married;
Such a mind
Questioned Gods;
Oh, the uses of
A mind at odds! '

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, January 23, 2013

Poem Edited: Wednesday, January 23, 2013

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