The Dome Of Sunday Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCDEFGHHH ICJKLM NOMPQRSTUVWDXV YPPCZG A2B2C2D2QE2A2F2G2A2B H2| With focus sharp as Flemish painted face | A |
| In film of varnish brightly fixed | B |
| And through a polished hand lens deeply seen | C |
| Sunday at noon through hyaline thin air | D |
| Sees down the street | E |
| And in the camera of my eye depicts | F |
| Row houses and row lives | G |
| Glass after glass door after door the same | H |
| Face after face the same the same | H |
| The brutal visibility the same | H |
| - | |
| - | |
| As if one life emerging from one house | I |
| Would pause a single image caught between | C |
| Two facing mirrors where vision multiplies | J |
| Beyond perspective | K |
| A silent clatter in the high speed eye | L |
| Spinning out photo circulars of sight | M |
| - | |
| - | |
| I see slip to the curb the long machines | N |
| Out of whose warm and windowed rooms pirouette | O |
| Shellacked with silk and light | M |
| The hard legs of our women | P |
| Our women are one woman dressed in black | Q |
| The carmine printed mouth | R |
| And cheeks as soft as muslin glass belong | S |
| Outright to one dark dressy man | T |
| Merely a swagger at her curvy side | U |
| This is their visit to themselves | V |
| All day from porch to porch they weave | W |
| A nonsense pattern through the even glare | D |
| Stealing in surfaces | X |
| Cold vulgar glances at themselves | V |
| - | |
| - | |
| And high up in the heated room all day | Y |
| I wait behind the plate glass pane for one | P |
| Hot as a voyeur for a glimpse of one | P |
| The vision to blot out this woman s sheen | C |
| All day my sight records expensively | Z |
| Row houses and row lives | G |
| - | |
| - | |
| But nothing happens no diagonal | A2 |
| With melting shadow falls across the curb | B2 |
| Neither the blinded negress lurching through fatigue | C2 |
| Nor exiles bleeding from their pores | D2 |
| Nor that bright bomb slipped lightly from its rack | Q |
| To splinter every silvered glass and crystal prism | E2 |
| Witch bowl and perfume bottle | A2 |
| And billion candle power dressing bulb | F2 |
| No direct hit to smash the shatter proof | G2 |
| And lodge at last the quivering needle | A2 |
| Clean in the eye of one who stands transfixed | B |
| In fascination of her brightness | H2 |
Karl Shapiro
(1)
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About The Dome Of Sunday
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