William Faulkner And Mina Loy's Love Child!

If William Faulkner And Mina Loy gave birth to a poem what would it be like? Do you think it would be poetic or poetically dysfunctional?



















We believe it would be both as both poets were very eclectic in nature and bithed amazing poetry by themselves.

Here's what we think their love child would be read like: Here's two poems interwined by two amazing poets with two differient styles.

Get your read on with "Sappics And Gertrude Stein"; now known as "Sappics of Gertrude Stein."

So it is: sleep comes not on my eyelids.

Nor in my eyes, with shaken hair and white

Aloof pale hands, and lips and breasts of iron,

So she beholds me.

*Curie
of the laboratory
of vocabulary
she crushed
the tonnage
of consciousness
congealed to phrases
to extract
a radium of the word*

And yet though sleep comes not to me, there comes

A vision from the full smooth brow of sleep,

The white Aphrodite moving unbounded

   By her own hair.

*Curie
of the laboratory
of vocabulary
she crushed
the tonnage
of consciousness
congealed to phrases
to extract
a radium of the word*

In the purple beaks of the doves that draw her,

Beaks straight without desire, necks bent backward

Toward Lesbos and the flying feet of Loves

   Weeping behind her.

*Curie
of the laboratory
of vocabulary
she crushed
the tonnage
of consciousness
congealed to phrases
to extract
a radium of the word*
She looks not back, she looks not back to where

The nine crowned muses about Apollo

Stand like nine Corinthian columns singing

   In clear evening.

*Curie
of the laboratory
of vocabulary
she crushed
the tonnage
of consciousness
congealed to phrases
to extract
a radium of the word*

She sees not the Lesbians kissing mouth

To mouth across lute strings, drunken with singing,

Nor the white feet of the Oceanides

   Shining and unsandalled.

*Curie
of the laboratory
of vocabulary
she crushed
the tonnage
of consciousness
congealed to phrases
to extract
a radium of the word*
Before her go cryings and lamentations

Of barren women, a thunder of wings,

While ghosts of outcast Lethean women, lamenting,

   Stiffen the twilight.

*Curie
of the laboratory
of vocabulary
she crushed
the tonnage
of consciousness
congealed to phrases
to extract
a radium of the word*

  











xoxo$^$
Literary Barbie