Taking a cue from the (late?) VC blog, seventonine will, from time to time, be publishing words-lyrics, poems, etc.-that are meaningful or pretty or something. Occasionally, we will offer drink recommendations to help you truly grasp the beauty or meaning of a particular text.
It’s the last half of this poem that is particularly good-moving so gently from the simple and specific to the grand, philosophical and more general. This is, of course, Mr. Collins particular strength, and it is on full display here.
Poem: Pavilion
Author: Billy Collins
Drink Recommendation: The Glenlivet
I sit in the study,
simple walls, complicated design of carpet.
I read a book with a bright red cover.
I write something down.
I look up a face in an encyclopedia
and copy it onto a card,
the lamp burning,
a painting leaning against a chair.
I find a word in a dictionary
and copy it onto the back of an envelope,
the piano heavy in the corner,
the fan turning slowly overhead.
Such is life in this pavilion
of paper and ink
where a cup of tea is cooling,
where the windows darken then fill with light.
But I have had enough of it–
the slope of paper on the desk,
books on the floor like water lilies,
the jasmine drying out in its pot.
In fact, I am ready to die,
ready to return as something else,
like a brown-and-white dog
with his head always out the car window
Then maybe, if you were still around,
walking along a street in linen clothes,
a portfolio under your arm,
you would see me go by,
my eyes closed,
we nose twitching,
my ears blown back,
a kind of smile on my long dark lips.