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Symptom Recital

I do not like my state of mind;
I'm bitter, querulous, unkind.
I hate my legs, I hate my hands,
I do not yearn for lovelier lands.
I dread the dawn's recurrent light;
I hate to go to bed at night.
I snoot at simple, earnest folk.
I cannot take the gentlest joke.
I find no peace in paint or type.
My world is but a lot of tripe.
I'm disillusioned, empty-breasted.
For what I think, I'd be arrested.
I am not sick, I am not well.
My quondam dreams are shot to hell.
My soul is crushed, my spirit sore;
I do not like me any more.
I cavil, quarrel, grumble, grouse.
I ponder on the narrow house.
I shudder at the thought of men….
I'm due to fall in love again.

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Comments

  • Olivia Wood
    May 30
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    YES YES YES

    Yes!


  • May 13
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    From guest julianhw (contact)
    It just is, there, rhythmic, true. Great stuff - Parker at her best.

  • rbruce
    August 31, 2008

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    Self doubt, self hatred even, then, at the very end, the why "I'm due to fall in love again". Beautifully crafted.

  • suseann
    January 4, 2007

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    Dead on honest assessments.Melted with humor.She weaves a fine thread of facts weather true or not in this.I adore the lady's soured chasm.

  • Ladie Lee
    July 10, 2004
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    Another one of my favorite Dorothy Parker's, I hate that i know this feeling. Such a well formed poem. Typically Parker, with a great build-up and then the knife point. Gotta love it
    Ladie