Carnation Milk

Okay, I just can't translate this without writing it down for ya'll to see.

This poem is from an anonymous writer, who apparently speaks bluntly.

"Carnation Milk is the best in the land;

Here I sit with a can in my hand--

No tits to pull, no hay to pitch,

You just punch a hole in the son of a bitch"

OKAY SO NOW THAT YOU'VE READ IT WITH YOUR OWN EYES...I LITERALLY CANNOT UNDERSTAND WHY THIS WOULD EVEN BE PUBLISH WORTHY. I mean hey, I love me some carnation milk, so I guess you could say I can relate to its positively sinful milky goodness. Its just interesting how bluntly passionate a person can be over something so simple as evaporated milk. Love knows no boundaries because clearly this anonymous poet is speaking their mind on a level so peculiar. 

I don't know why, and I hope I am not coming off racist or anything but I get the hunch this person lives a redneck life and just have this image of him sitting on a stool out in the west with a beer gut, gritted teeth holding a hay stem, and a dirty red plaid shirt drinking this excessively poked can of carnation milk. 

.........BUT MAYBE ITS JUST ME...........hehe

"Oh No" by Robert Creeley

I feel as if all my blog posts have been focusing on the random selections I've made of the poems offered in this book. And yet again, I say to you, I was merely scanning through the book when I found this short and convenient poem "Oh No" on page 515.

Well than, shall we begin to analyze?

Its comparatively short to the previous poems I've spoken about. The first line brought me to a wondrous mentality, and I quote "If you wander far enough you will come to it..". It reminds me of a line of another poem, "All That is Gold Does Not Glitter" written by J. R. R. Tolkein.

And that quote is, "Not all those who wander are lost".

I could be mocking through my perception, but there seems to be more connection than I knew.
ANYWAY....the poem comes off heaven like. As if this were a journey, passing by the act of death and being reborn in heaven, when he states " and when you get there they will have a place for you to sit for yourself only, and in a nice chair.."

Interestingly enough, the analysis given after, on the next page, breaks it down to that same conclusion/perception. And I read that before I could conclude my thoughts. This poem may be short, but there is meaning branching out endlessly through every line, and to me, word. Fascinating how poems alternate and resemble differently, or at least to some, could be.

Young Goodman Brown

I really didn't like this story. I think its because it was super long and uninteresting.  The plot twost at the end though did catch my surprise. Funny how yhe majority works, hypocrisy and all..how you could appear one way but store a secret life away from the "angelic" image..much like his wife did. I feel like the beginning and middle of the store was extra information..of course it led to its shocking finale, but it was just dreadful to read. At least in my opinion. So thankful young goodman brown was not an assigned topic for our research paper...haha.