A blog for the cartooning, illustration, and artwork of Allen Spetnagel and friends.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
"SALE" by Theodore Roethke
Who ran up and down the big center stairs
the Chippendale chairs
--And an attic of horrors, a closet of fears.
The furniture polished and polished so grand,
A stable and paddock,
some fox-hunting land,
The summer house shaped like a village band stand
--And grandfather's sinister hovering hand.
The antimacassar for the sofa in red,
The Bechstein piano,
the four-poster bed,
The library used as a card room instead
--And some watery eyes in a Copley head.
The dining room carpet dyed brighter than blood,
The table where everyone ate as he should,
The sideboard beside which a tall footman stood
--And a fume of decay that clings fast to the wood.
The hand-painted wall-paper, finer than skin,
The room that the children had never been in,
All the rings and the relics encrusted with sin
--And the taint in a blood that was running too thin.
To read more poetry by Theodore Roethke, visit
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