A Small Delight from X.J.

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A Small Delight from X.J. Kennedy

A favorite poet of mine gets it just right:

Nothing in Heaven Functions as It Ought X. J. Kennedy

Nothing in Heaven functions as it ought:
Peter's bifocals, blindly sat on, crack;
His gates lurch wide with the cackle of a cock,
Not turn with a hush of gold as Milton had thought;
Gangs of the slaughtered innocents keep huffing
The nimbus off the Venerable Bede
Like that of an old dandelion gone to seed;
And the beatific choir keep breaking up, coughing.

But Hell, sleek Hell, hath no freewheeling part:
None takes his own sweet time, none quickens pace.
Ask anyone, "How come you here, poor heart?"
And he will slot a quarter through his face.
You'll hear an instant click, a tear will start
Imprinted with an abstract of his case.

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could someone please explain this poem to me? im trying to figure out what each line means in detail thanks!!



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This page contains a single entry by Steven Riddle published on November 6, 2002 8:31 PM.

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