Adrienne Rich - The Eye lyrics
[Adrienne Rich - The Eye lyrics]
A balcony, violet shade on stucco fruit in a
Plastic bowl on the iron
Raggedy legged table, grapes and sliced
Melon, saucers, a knife, wine
In a couple of thick short tumblers cream
Cheese once came in: our snack
In the eye of the war There
Are places where fruit is implausible, even
Rest is implausible
Places where wine if any should
Be poured into wounds
But we’re not yet there or it’s
Not here yet it’s the war
Not us, that moves
Pauses and hurtles forward into the neck
And groin of the city
The soft indefensible places but not here yet
Behind the balcony an
Apartment, papers, pillows
Green vines still watered
There are waterless places but not here yet
There’s a bureau topped with marble
And combs and brushes on it, little
Tubes for lips and eyebrows, a dish
Of coins and keys
There’s a bed a desk a stove
A cane rocker a bookcase civilization
Cage with a skittery bird
There are birdless places but not here yet
This bird must creak and flutter
In the name of all
Uprooted orchards, limbless groves
This bird standing for wings and
Song that here can’t fly
Our bird quilted wine poured
Future uncertain you’d think
People like us would have it scanned
And planned tickets to somewhere
Would be in the drawer with all
Our education you’d think we’d
Have taken measures
Soon as ash started turning up on
The edges of everything ash
In the leaves of books ash on the leaves
Of trees and in the veins of the passive
Innocent life we were leading calling it hope
You’d think that and we thought this it’s
The war not us that’s moving
Like shade on a balcony
Plastic bowl on the iron
Raggedy legged table, grapes and sliced
Melon, saucers, a knife, wine
In a couple of thick short tumblers cream
Cheese once came in: our snack
In the eye of the war There
Are places where fruit is implausible, even
Rest is implausible
Places where wine if any should
Be poured into wounds
But we’re not yet there or it’s
Not here yet it’s the war
Not us, that moves
Pauses and hurtles forward into the neck
And groin of the city
The soft indefensible places but not here yet
Behind the balcony an
Apartment, papers, pillows
Green vines still watered
There are waterless places but not here yet
There’s a bureau topped with marble
And combs and brushes on it, little
Tubes for lips and eyebrows, a dish
Of coins and keys
There’s a bed a desk a stove
A cane rocker a bookcase civilization
Cage with a skittery bird
There are birdless places but not here yet
This bird must creak and flutter
In the name of all
Uprooted orchards, limbless groves
This bird standing for wings and
Song that here can’t fly
Our bird quilted wine poured
Future uncertain you’d think
People like us would have it scanned
And planned tickets to somewhere
Would be in the drawer with all
Our education you’d think we’d
Have taken measures
Soon as ash started turning up on
The edges of everything ash
In the leaves of books ash on the leaves
Of trees and in the veins of the passive
Innocent life we were leading calling it hope
You’d think that and we thought this it’s
The war not us that’s moving
Like shade on a balcony