An afternoon inlaid with fog
like a little fishing village.

Did I come at the wrong time?
Knicked with knife and soaked overnight,

your thinking came out curved—
a paisley. I was hacking my way

through creepers
at a defunct railroad crossing

when I asked, If it’s none
of my business

why am I making a profit?
But as for you,

nothing was going on in Kubla Khan
except that you were drawing

your mind up before us
like a poison-stickled sea sponge.

Your dreamy portals were greased
all afternoon by blowflies fresh from sheep—

or sleep. I meant to say your sleep gave you
hours of swaddlings,

narcotics,
interruptions.

Analysis, meaning and summary of Lee Upton's poem Interrupting An Addict

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Do you have any comments, criticism, paraphrasis or analysis of this poem that you feel would assist other visitors in understanding the meaning or the theme of this poem by Lee Upton better? If accepted, your analysis will be added to this page of American Poems. Together we can build a wealth of information, but it will take some discipline and determination.