Poets | Bookstore | Poem of the Day | Top 40 | Search | Comments | Privacy
April 24th, 2014 - we have 234 poets, 8,025 poems and 105,328 comments.
Edgar Lee Masters - Ippolit Konovaloff

I was a gun-smith in Odessa.
One night the police broke in the room
Where a group of us were reading Spencer.
And seized our books and arrested us.
But I escaped and came to New York
And thence to Chicago, and then to Spoon River,
Where I could study my Kant in peace
And eke out a living repairing guns!
Look at my moulds! My architectonics!
One for a barrel, one for a hammer,
And others for other parts of a gun!
Well, now suppose no gun-smith living
Had anything else but duplicate moulds
Of these I show you -- well, all guns
Would be just alike, with a hammer to hit
The cap and a barrel to carry the shot,
All acting alike for themselves, and all
Acting against each other alike.
And there would be your world of guns!
Which nothing could ever free from itself
Except a Moulder with different moulds
To mould the metal over. 

Share |

Added: Mar 18 2005 | Viewed: 1126 times | Comments and analysis of Ippolit Konovaloff by Edgar Lee Masters Comments (0)

Ippolit Konovaloff - Comments and Information

Poet: Edgar Lee Masters
Poem: Ippolit Konovaloff
There are no comments for this poem. Why not be the first one to post something about it?

Are you looking for more information on this poem? Perhaps you are trying to analyze it? The poem, Ippolit Konovaloff, has not yet been commented on. You can click here to be the first to post a comment about it.

Poem Info

Masters Info
Copyright © 2000-2012 Gunnar Bengtsson. All Rights Reserved. Links | Bookstore