An Untitled Gem by Angela
I found this poem by Angela Carter on the web today. It struck me with its terse words and apparent simplicity. There is a great writer's wisdom in the use of few words and strikingly compelling images. The cat with the spoon ears is just a brilliant sentence, but the last two lines literally give me goose bumps. I feel I have learnt a whole poetry lesson today. You've got a long way to go, my dear Alessandra!
My cat
Is the snow queen,
This frigid virgin four
Winters old crooks
Her paw to wash a face
White
As starlight, twice
As cold.
She puts back
her ears like spoons
to listen to the wind
behind her.
She eats
For breakfast, hearts;
For supper, northern lights.
My cat
Is the snow queen,
This frigid virgin four
Winters old crooks
Her paw to wash a face
White
As starlight, twice
As cold.
She puts back
her ears like spoons
to listen to the wind
behind her.
She eats
For breakfast, hearts;
For supper, northern lights.
At the Carter conference in Northampton a couple of years ago I first heard and heard about her poetry. Wonderful! She had originally thought she'd make her name as a poet and never intended to write fiction. Surprises await us all.
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