O C T O B E R 1 9 6 1 ![]() GRACEby Maxine Kumin | |||||||||||||
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Hens have their gravel; gravel sticks The way it should stick, in the craw. And stone on stone is tooth For grinding raw. And grinding raw, I learn from this To fill my crop the way I should. I put down pudding stone And find it good. I find it good to line my gut With tidy octagons of grit. No loophole and no chink Make vents in it. And in it vents no slime or sludge; No losses sluice, no terrors slough. God, give me appetite for stone enough. Maxine Kumin won a Pulitzer Prize in 1973 for her collection of poems Up Country. Her most recent volumes are Connecting the Dots (1996) and Selected Poems: 1960-1990 (1997). Copyright © 1961 by Maxine Kumin. All rights reserved. The Atlantic Monthly; October 1961; Grace; Volume 208, No. 4; page 104. |
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