I thought I’d post a little of my favorite Wallace Stevens poem. It’s from a rarely known piece written in the later half of his most productive period called , “O, Happy Day!” I find it fairly joyous and Stevens at his playful best. Enjoy.

“Oh, Happy Day”

I wish I could take the fire of a thousands burning suns

and whittle it down into a point

that I could thrust into the left ventricle of your heart;

then you would know my rage.

In a nest of Persephone’s bosom

I would make tunnels as the ants

leaving a twisted realm of cancer

within her withered breast.

If I could boil all my past pets

in a boiling turgid sea

they would know the wrong they’ve done

by dying and leaving me.

Would you cook your face?

Spattering it with grease

Disfiguring the beauty of Helena?

And would I still love you?

I would not, you shrill harpie.

You agnostic bitch.

I would see you rot in hell

And cry, “O, Happy Day!”

- Wally Stevens