so about that liberal arts degree.


[Photos: Dartmouth College]

Sometimes I find a good quote or poem and just have to hold onto it. Somber and haunting, but I keep coming back to this one. Promise not to make this the Brooding English Major Irony Hour too often, but every now and then I have to play my literary hand.


“Stop all the clocks” | W.H. Auden | 1938


Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,                                      

 Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,           

 Silence the pianos and with muffled drum          

 Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.


Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead          

 Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,        

 Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,     

 Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.


He was my North, my South, my East and West,     

My working week and my Sunday rest,      

My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;         

I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.


The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;    

Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;      

Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.     

For nothing now can ever come to any good.



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