Skip to content →

Cabaret Ludwig

I’ll fly off to a fjord in Norway,

post “Oh the pain” above my doorway

if you insist on going your way,

for this is not a duck.

That is what cowards say, and realists

who run away, shun the appeal its

rare white fur holds, although they feel it’s

a rabbit full of pluck.

Let’s multiply, let’s twitch our noses,

let’s walk among the night’s dark roses,

though where the oldest story goes is

a place where tongues might cluck.

I’ve had my share of quacks and hisses;

whereof mouth cannot speak, it kisses;

hop to it, man, and realize this is

a lovely bit of luck.

from Silver RosesFind it in the library

Copyright © Persea Books 2010
Used with the permission of The Permissions Company, Inc.
on behalf of Persea Books.

Published in Poems Rachel Wetzsteon

This program is supported in part by a grant from the Idaho Humanities Council, a State-based program of the National Endowment for the Humanities.

Any views, findings, conclusions, or recommendations expressed in this (publication, website, exhibit, etc.) do not necessarily represent those of the Idaho Humanities Council or the National Endowment for the Humanities.

css.php