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Poem by Amy Lowell


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I will mix me a drink of stars, --
Large stars with polychrome needles,
Small stars jetting maroon and crimson,
Cool, quiet, green stars.
I will tear them out of the sky,
And squeeze them over an old silver cup,
And I will pour the cold scorn of my Beloved into it,
So that my drink shall be bubbled with ice.
It will lap and scratch
As I swallow it down;
And I shall feel it as a serpent of fire,
Coiling and twisting in my belly.
His snortings will rise to my head,
And I shall be hot, and laugh,
Forgetting that I have ever known a woman.



Amy Lowell


Amy Lowell's other poems:
  1. The Bungler
  2. The Painter on Silk
  3. The Fool Errant
  4. The Boston Athenaeum
  5. Frankincense and Myrrh


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