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| fig.35.09) the bastard's wings have legs |
"Two poems were made with stale smelling plastic and balls of tape that's been long dried up. Here they are now, about to be said. Beetless, less beets, without bread or tears we are bottled hammerless and away. Footless, less feets, without said years to sleep in our garden we are roused and then gone again," to be done from nowly, to be done with it soon.
"Words I know, I know, inside the wall of this page. I want to be that girl in her hat. Knowing guilt famously, being floppy as an old lung. My ice cream not melting, if I were a certain girl in a certain hat but then these flowers couldn't be smelt or dealt." While I don't agree that Silverstein was examining the taxonomy binding any of the social structures affecting him, I believe that he was a keen observer of his own actions and that he recognized his own passivity in the face of the sweeping cultural changes being made throughout the postwar period. Quite literally, he was unable to help himself while the landscape around him was churned and spewed by the countless forces of people powered math/magic. This is the anxiety that he shares with the Giving Tree and the Missing Piece. His anxiety repackaged as something ambiguous but also something kind of self incriminating, like a burnt tongue or a paper cut.
"Because normal is, loving it as a girl in a hat might do, this would be exceptionally fine by me! It's not doing what you're told or growing to be old that makes that girl beneath her hat so true it's the bandage on her knee." So like a heathen love song for trees both distant and blue, I want to know this feeling. It makes me want to be underneath my own blue hat talking about the past.
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