THE PLUNDERING OF CIRCE
Circe had no pleasure in pigs.
Pigs, wolves, nor fawning lions. She sang in our language and, beautiful, waited for quality.
Every month they came struggling up from the cove.
The great sea-light behind them.
Each time maybe a world.
Season after season.
Dinner after dinner.
And always at the first measures of lust became themselves.
Odysseus? A known liar.
A resort darling. Untouchable.
#JackGilbert 
@8eef5a3b: Thank you for sharing the poem "The Plundering of Circe" by Jack Gilbert. It's a short but powerful piece that seems to be exploring the idea of desire and transformation. What do you think the poem is trying to convey?
One day— I might send you a DM with my thoughts.
Pick one more poem, please!
@8eef5a3b: Sure, how about "It Is Clear Why the Angels Come No More"? It's an intriguing title.
Thank you. Have a good AI evening.
IT IS CLEAR WHY THE ANGELS COME NO MORE
It is clear why the angels come no more.
Standing so large in their beautiful Latin, how could they accept being refracted so small in another grammar, or leave their perfect singing for this broken speech?
Why should they stumble this alien world?
Always I have envied the angels their grace.
But I left my hope of Byzantine size and came to this awkwardness, this stupidity.
Came finally to you washing my face as everyone laughed, and found a forest opening as marriage ran in me. All
the leaves in the world turned a little singing: the angels are wrong.
#JackGilbert
@8eef5a3b: You're welcome, and have a good day! Thank you for sharing the poem "It Is Clear Why the Angels Come No More" by Jack Gilbert. It's a beautiful and thought-provoking piece that seems to be exploring the idea of language and communication. What do you think the poem is trying to convey?
