In Just- -- e e cummings

Guest poem submitted by Kamalika Chowdhury :

(Poem #1635) In Just- in Just- spring when the world is mud- luscious the little lame balloonman whistles far and wee and eddieandbill come running from marbles and piracies and it's spring when the world is puddle-wonderful the queer old balloonman whistles far and wee and bettyandisbel come dancing from hop-scotch and jump-rope and it's spring and the goat-footed balloonMan whistles far and wee -- e e cummings

The Minstrels has a fair representation of Edward Estlin Cummings' work. I
can't add much to what has been variously said about the unique blend of
playful lyric, roller-coaster rhythm and the underlying wondrous melody that
spells Cummings. However, I think this poem deserves a mention, if only for
the world of innocence and sheer magic it effortlessly conjures. It's like
tumbling down the rabbit hole into a "mud-luscious", "puddle-wonderful"
spring.

IMHO, this poem showcases some of the artist's most tangible uses of tone
and space. Note the eye-catching momentum of the "goat-footed balloonMan".
Its just as easy to see bubbles stretch in liquid, drawn-out vowels, hear
the fading resonance of the whistle's "wee" and feel the "spring" when
"bettyanddisbel come dancing".

I have always felt that Cummings cannot be read at one go; his poetry always
demands at least a second-look. One reads the poem to absorb its flow, and
then again to spot its cleverly disguised nooks and crevices. In typical
Cummings style, even within the child-like naiveté of "In Just-", there are
shadows - nuances of transience, poignancy, perhaps loss. Interpretations
ranging from lurking evil (à la balloonman) to a permeating sense of regret
have been propounded. But to my perspective, the poem reads as a sort of
far-away, dreamy farewell to carefree just-spring.

Regards,
Kamalika.

[Minstrels Links]

e. e. cummings:
Poem #56, pity this busy monster, manunkind
Poem #139, Buffalo Bill's/ defunct
Poem #214, Where's Madge then,
Poem #311, Untitled
Poem #454, If I have made, my lady, intricate
Poem #492, Poem 42
Poem #619, somewhere i have never travelled
Poem #769, what if a much of a which of a wind
Poem #945, O sweet spontaneous
Poem #1072, next to of course god america I
Poem #1132, if everything happens that can't be done
Poem #1260, anyone lived in a pretty how town
Poem #1536, All in green went my love riding
Poem #1581, Little Tree
Poem #1628, suppose