Emily Dickinson Sits Down to Write the Morning After Watching “The Godfather” on Late Night Cable
Because I could not stop for Death—
He kindly stopped for me—
The roadster held but just Ourselves—
And Clemenza in the back seat with a Wire.
We slowly drove—He knew no haste
And I had put away
Two Extra Helpings of Spaghetti,
And who knows how many Glasses of that Vino—
We passed the School, where Children strove
And Michael offered Kay a Ring—
We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain—
We passed that Hothead Sonny—
Or rather—He passed On—
The Dews drew quivering and Slick—
For only Gossamer, my Gown—
Which ripped when we Did It at the Top of the Stairs—
We paused before a House that seemed
An empty Tollbooth—
No One was visible—
And then a Car pulled up Behind—
Since then—'tis Centuries—and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horse's Head
Was soaking that Director's Bed—
