Two Poems
Donald Hall, 19 August 1993
When we reached the getaway car after the reception, I found my ushers gathered to decorate the green Oldsmobile the usual way – with Just Married, pieplates, ribbons, and straw. I...
Donald Hall lives in New Hampshire. His Poems 1947-1990 appeared from Carcanet in 1991. His most recent collection, The Museum of Clear Ideas, was published earlier this year.
When we reached the getaway car after the reception, I found my ushers gathered to decorate the green Oldsmobile the usual way – with Just Married, pieplates, ribbons, and straw. I...
At college in my junior year, I had a nervous breakdown, or so I told Dr Coluccio in a long letter I typed at my desk in Eliot House. Anxious, exhausted, fretful, I explained that I needed to quit school, certainly to get away from Harvard. I spoke in desperation: I couldn’t sleep or study or...
Just after I turned nine, my great-aunt Jennie died of cancer. At the funeral, her brother George felt a pain in his back and four months later we buried him. Put to bed late, after the funeral reunion with its straight-faced family jokes, I lay awake, repeating a sentence over and over in my head: It was as if I read it...
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