The Town Dump Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AB CDBBBEFGHIJKLMBNNBLB OBLBPQRBLSCETUHVWEI TXLHEEBBIILIY IBIIFBIILA| lt i gt The art of our necessities is strange | A |
| That can make vile things precious lt i gt | B |
| - | |
| A mile out in the marshes under a sky | C |
| Which seems to be always going away | D |
| In a hurry on that Venetian land threaded | B |
| With hidden canals you will find the city | B |
| Which seconds ours so cemeteries too | B |
| Reflect a town from hillsides out of town | E |
| Where Being most Becomingly ends up | F |
| Becoming some more From cardboard tenements | G |
| Windowed with cellophane or simply tenting | H |
| In paper bags the angry mackerel eyes | I |
| Glare at you out of stove in sunken heads | J |
| Far from the sea the lobster also lifts | K |
| An empty claw in his most minatory | L |
| Of gestures oyster crab and mussel shells | M |
| Lie here in heaps savage as money hurled | B |
| Away at the gate of hell If you want results | N |
| These are results | N |
| Objects of value or virtue | B |
| However are also to be picked up here | L |
| Though rarely lying with bones and rotten meat | B |
| Eggshells and mouldy bread banana peels | O |
| No one will skid on apple cores that caused | B |
| Neither the fall of man nor a theory | L |
| Of gravitation People do throw out | B |
| The family pearls by accident sometimes | P |
| Not often I ve known dealers in antiques | Q |
| To prowl this place by night with flashlights on | R |
| The off chance of somebody s having left | B |
| Derelict chairs which will turn out to be | L |
| by Hepplewhite a perfect set of six | S |
| Going to show I guess that in any sty | C |
| Someone s heaven may open and shower down | E |
| Riches responsive to the right dream though | T |
| It is a small chance certainly that sends | U |
| The ghostly dealer heavy with fly netting | H |
| Over his head across these hills in darkness | V |
| Stumbling in cut glass goblets lacquered cups | W |
| And other products of his dreamy midden | E |
| Penciled with light and guarded by the flies | I |
| - | |
| For there are flies of course A dynamo | T |
| Composed by thousands of our ancient black | X |
| Retainers hums here day and night steady | L |
| As someone telling beads the hum becoming | H |
| A high whine at any disturbance then | E |
| Settled again they shine under the sun | E |
| Like oil drops or are invisible as night | B |
| By night | B |
| All this continually smoulders | I |
| Crackles and smokes with mostly invisible fires | I |
| Which working deep rarely flash out and flare | L |
| And never finish Nothing finishes | I |
| The flies feeling the heat keep on the move | Y |
| - | |
| Among the flies the purefying fires | I |
| The hunters by night acquainted with the art | B |
| Of our necessities and the new deposits | I |
| That each day wastes with treasure you may say | I |
| There should be ratios You may sum up | F |
| The results if you want results But I will add | B |
| That wild birds drawn to the carrion and flies | I |
| Assemble in some numbers here their wings | I |
| Shining with light their flight enviably free | L |
| Their music marvelous though sad and strange | A |
Howard Nemerov
(1)
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About The Town Dump
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