Russell Edson Poems
|41.||A Journey Through The Moonlight||1/13/2003|
|42.||A Historical Breakfast||1/13/2003|
|46.||A Performance At Hog Theater||1/13/2003|
|50.||A Stone Is Nobody's||1/13/2003|
|52.||On The Eating Of Mice||1/13/2003|
|54.||One Lonely Afternoon||1/13/2003|
Comments about Russell Edson
One Lonely Afternoon
Since the fern can't go to the sink for a drink of
water, I graciously submit myself to the task, bringing two
glasses from the sink.
And so we sit, the fern and I, sipping water together.
Of course I'm more complex than a fern, full of deep
thoughts as I am. But I lay this aside for the easy company
of an afternoon friendship.
I don't mind sipping water with a fern, even though,
had I my druthers, I'd be speeding through the sky for
Stockholm, sipping a bloody mary with a wedge of lime.
And so we sit one lonely afternoon sipping ...
The Man Rock
A man is a rock in a garden of chairs and waits
for a longtime to be over.
It is easier for a rock in a garden than a man
inside his mother. He decided to be a rock when
he got outside.
A rock asks only what is a rock.