The Man On The Dump Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABCDEFGHI JKLMNIOPQOR QQQSSQT AJQUQVW XQYZZZQQA2B2QCC2D2

Day creeps down The moon is creeping upA
The sun is a corbeil of flowers the moon BlancheB
Places there a bouquet Ho ho The dump is fullC
Of images Days pass like papers from a pressD
The bouquets come here in the papers So the sunE
And so the moon both come and the janitor's poemsF
Of every day the wrapper on the can of pearsG
The cat in the paper bag the corset the boxH
From Esthonia the tiger chest for teaI
-
The freshness of night has been fresh a long timeJ
The freshness of morning the blowing of day one saysK
That it puffs as Cornelius Nepos reads it puffsL
More than less than or it puffs like this or thatM
The green smacks in the eye the dew in the greenN
Smacks like fresh water in a can like the seaI
On a cocoanut how many men have copied dewO
For buttons how many women have covered themselvesP
With dew dew dresses stones and chains of dew headsQ
Of the floweriest flowers dewed with the dewiest dewO
One grows to hate these things except on the dumpR
-
Now in the time of spring azaleas trilliumsQ
Myrtle viburnums daffodils blue phloxQ
Between that disgust and this between the thingsQ
That are on the dump azaleas and so onS
And those that will be azaleas and so onS
One feels the purifying change One rejectsQ
The trashT
-
That's the moment when the moon creeps upA
To the bubbling of bassoons That's the timeJ
One looks at the elephant colorings of tiresQ
Everything is shed and the moon comes up as the moonU
All its images are in the dump and you seeQ
As a man not like an image of a manV
You see the moon rise in the empty skyW
-
One sits and beats an old tin can lard pailX
One beats and beats for that which one believesQ
That's what one wants to get near Could it after allY
Be merely oneself as superior as the earZ
To a crow's voice Did the nightingale torture the earZ
Pack the heart and scratch the mind And does the earZ
Solace itself in peevish birds Is it peaceQ
Is it a philosopher's honeymoon one findsQ
On the dump Is it to sit among mattresses of the deadA2
Bottles pots shoes and grass and murmur aptest eveB2
Is it to hear the blatter of grackles and sayQ
Invisible priest is it to eject to pullC
The day to pieces and cry stanza my stoneC2
Where was it one first heard of the truth The theD2

Wallace Stevens



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