Posted by: Jim | April 25, 2007

Found Poem

Thanks to The Curmudegeon in Training, who I just knew would know the answer. He knew it immediately. I had messed up the first line, which is why I couldn’t Google it.

It’s by Theodore Roethke. This is the kind of post that yields zero readership or comments. But do you know what? I don’t care! 😛

This one goes out to all the corporate wonks out there who understand the dolor of pencils.

______________________________________________

Dolor

I have known the inexorable sadness of pencils,
Neat in their boxes, dolor of pad and paper-weight,
All the misery of manila folders and mucilage,
Desolation in immaculate public places,
Lonely reception room, lavatory, switchboard,
The unalterable pathos of basin and pitcher,
Ritual of multigraph, paper-clip, comma,
Endless duplication of lives and objects.
And I have seen dust from the walls of institutions,
Finer than flour, alive, more dangerous than silica,
Sift, almost invisible, through long afternoons of tedium,
Dropping a fine film on nails and delicate eyebrows,
Glazing the pale hair, the duplicate grey standard faces.

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Responses

  1. The saddest thing of all is that soon nobody under 40 will even know what a pencil WAS.

    Not to mention the 8-hour day.

    * * *

  2. Ha, I thought you were going to say that soon nobody under 40 will know what a poem is!

    We may already have passed that point. Lovely poem, reminds me why I don’t work in an office.


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