But I love the I, steel I-beam
that my father sold. They poured the pig iron
into the mold, and it fed out slowly,
a bending jelly in the bath, and it hardened,
...
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A great poem encompassing the basic psychic riddle of human beings that starts with I and mine. n enjoyable read.Thanks for posting it here.
Like the soul that rushes! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
What a great description of conception. We all start with the I and end with it.
The World According To Sharon Olds, I love the most reading the World through her eyes, True Ars Poetica at its Best. Congratulations dear Mrs. Olds by being chosen as the Modern Poem Of The Day. Hurray! We all on POEMHUNTER say HURRAY NOW. Though you're an atheist, as far as I am concerned....I say G.B.U. Amen.10+