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Shakespeare's Monkeys

Infinite Monkeys. Infinite Typewriters.

More in Beside the Point

Building a (snow) man

she asks, "snow, or no snow?" I
beg, in every man, a carrot 
and bold unburnt coal - do we wait 
cold for the impetus to be whole? we (or
else) in other men, a stick un-wielded
reveals each blow (inch by inch) then 
(yielded) under plough 
as yet unfielded Answers 
come as children roll the chill 
up ball by ball into the question 

  • is that a man?

or is that snow unmoved by joy 
of boyhood plans? in every word, 
a snowflake waits, too warm? too cold? 
too small? too great? Every man (and others too)
asks the question, "What is true?

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