Perhaps the earth is floating, <br />I do not know. <br />Perhaps the stars are little paper cutups <br />made by some giant scissors, <br />I do not know. <br />Perhaps the moon is a frozen tear, <br />I do not know. <br />Perhaps God is only a deep voice <br />heard by the deaf, <br />I do not know. <br /> <br />Perhaps I am no one. <br />True, I have a body <br />and I cannot escape from it. <br />I would like to fly out of my head, <br />but that is out of the question. <br />It is written on the tablet of destiny <br />that I am stuck here in this human form. <br />That being the case <br />I would like to call attention to my problem. <br /> <br />There is an animal inside me, <br />clutiching fast to my heart, <br />a huge carb. <br />The doctors of Boston <br />have thrown up their hands. <br />They have tried scalpels, <br />needles, poison gasses adn the like. <br />The crab remains. <br />It is a great weight. <br />I try to forget it, go about my business, <br />cook the broccoli, open the shut books, <br />brush my teeth and tie my shoes. <br />I have tried prayer <br />but as I pray the crab grips harder <br />and the pain enlarges. <br /> <br />I had a dream once, <br />perhaps it was a dream, <br />that the crab was my ignorance of God. <br />But who am I to believe in dreams? <br /> <br /> <br />Anonymous submission.<br /><br />Anne Sexton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-poet-of-ignorance/
