Fall 1947 • Vol. IX No. 4 PoetryOctober 1, 1947 |

Riddle

You are a riddle I would not unravel, You are the riddle my life comprehends. And who abstracts the marvel Abstracts the story to its sorriest ends. But not your riddle. It is patent, Never more than it says, and since that is Impossible, it is the marvel Nobody, as I am nobody, believes.

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You are a riddle I would not unravel, You are the riddle my life comprehends. And who abstracts the marvel Abstracts the story to its sorriest ends. But not your […]

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You are a riddle I would not unravel, You are the riddle my life comprehends. And who abstracts the marvel Abstracts the story to its sorriest ends. But not your […]

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