Thursday, January 19, 2006

I love this poem

It's by Malcolm Lowry, who is best known for the novel, Under the Volcano.

Strange Type

I wrote: in the dark cavern of our birth.
The printer had it tavern, which seems better:
But herein lies the subject of our mirth,
Since on the next page death appears as dearth.
So it may be that God's word was distraction,
Which to our strange type appears destruction,
Which is bitter.

— Malcolm Lowry, 1909-1957

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