[Carol Taylor]

Prufock's Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Red Wheelbarrow Glazed with Rain beside White Chickens

Piove molto ogni mattina;
c'e aqua nella piscina.
Servono pollo di mare.
Chi ci viene a trovare?

I
Let us go then, you and I,
As the stench spreads out around the sty
Like a drumstick decomposing on a table.
Let us go, through certain half-deserted coops,
Through mounds of chicken poop,
And farmhouse kitchens filled with roach motels
Just down the road from Haddam's Taco Bells.

II
The red wheelbarrow left out in the rain
Lingers in a pool that will not drain.

III
So much depends upon this easy tool
Though the help should use it, as a rule.

IV
And indeed there will be time
To wonder, "Should I push?" and "Should I push?".
Time to count the poultry in the bush.

V
I grow old...I grow old.
My sidedish is getting cold.

VI
Dare I dine upon a nugget? Dare I take the chance?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, like Colonel Sanders' pants.

VII
But though I have wept and ordered, wept and paid,
Though I have seen my hens brought in upon a platter,
I have seen the hot coils of the broiler flicker
And I have seen the short-order cook hold his nose, and snicker,
And, in short, I felt filleted.

VIII
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare the livers and the meat;
There will be time to slowly marinate,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That softly slop some gravy on your plate.

IX
So much depends upon this deep-fried scene...
Oh do not ask just what I mean.

X
Oh do not ask, "What is squawking?".
Let us go and keep on walking.

XI
I should have been a pair of chicken feet
Dangling from a butcher's hook.

XII
In the yard the chickens come and go
Flapping as the randy roosters crow.

XIII
And I have heard them, heard them all.
I have heard white chickens call.
I am not a farmer, nor was meant to be.
I do not think these chickens cluck for me.

Michael Juster, Boston

[Richard Wilbur]

One needs to know “Prufrock” and its Dantean epigraph, and Stevens’ Blackbird poem, and Williams’ little Wheelbarrow-and-chickens poem, in order to get the full impact of this comic sequence, but it isn’t remotely satirical—any more than Anthony Hecht’s occasional recitation of Lycidas in the voice of W.C. Fields was an attack on Milton. This is simply a glorious lark, and I thank Mr. Juster for it.

~Richard Wilbur

[Chris Childers]

I'm with Mr. Wilbur; this is just funny! I'm particularly fond of #7.

Chris

[Tim Murphy]

What can I say about this--except that I have requested and received permission to use it in my chapter about Mike in the new prosimetrum, Requited. When Mike posted the latest incarnation, I called Dick and Charlee and read it to them, to gales of laughter. So I am unsurprised at Dick's written reaction.

[Terese Coe]

Still as funny if not more so, and my current raves are X and XIII! Very dry, Michael: high praise!

Terese

[Janet Kenny]

Michael,
Outrageous

Janet

[Michael Juster]

Thank you all for your kind comments. I've been straining also to find a fresh and sincere way to express how thrilled I am to have one of my poems praised by someone I admire as much as Richard Wilbur. For fear of unintentionally echoing Sally Field's Oscar speech, I'll just leave it at that.