/lit/ - Literature

[Anonymous No.9287629]

Does anyone understand what this means?
pic unrelated.


Atlas was a poet and came home with a back-ache.
His painted wife greeted: “But you’re so early, my dearest!”, an earnest smile of amusement upon the moonlike curve of her chin.
“That’s right”, said Atlas, while rubbing her shoulders; and did not bother to think (of abysses and annoyance).
“Why?”, she said, enquiring and with staggering honesty.
Just like a clockwork, he decided to ignore the timbre of her voice. “My back hurts, honey”, while massaging the amphibious surface of her skin.
“Oh but why my dear?”
Atlas hands stopped abruptly.
“I wrote a great poem today.”
She turned, both dutifully and non-expectant. “Yes?”
“Would you like to hear it?”
A most polished nod, impeccably polite.
“Do you think I don’t see you, my love?”, asked the poet.
She sighed, “You see me, my dear, you see me well.”
“I do see you, and we will go, will we go I and you”, coughed: “my love.”
She shrugged, “Where?”
He nodded, “A multicoloured land.”
“But where?”
“I and you, we will go.”
As expected, she drew a smile of contempt.
Atlas was a petty poet and his body felt spiritual pain. “I have a back-ache. Would you mind?”
She rose from her comfy patrician cushioned chair. “Oh but my love! Let me see…”, and laid a rough hand on his shoulder.
“There”, an elderly exhale of minor pleasure and content, “There.”.
Her fingers felt like prisoners “But where will we go?”, moving and curving and feeling the knots of his tired selfless wordy love, “…I and you?”.
He reassured “We will go,” a blank face, “very soon”.

[Anonymous No.9288650]

>>9287629
I don't know what it means, but I was expecting him to shrug at some point.

[Anonymous No.9288678]

>>9287629
It was poorly written, that's for sure

[Anonymous No.9288722]

i think i understood it but it seems mean and narcissistic.
basically "the poet" aka author's self insert, says he loves his woman but is struggling with his physical limitations in actually doign so (he refers to his back but means his soul's center and body, aka use of his mind/self). He would probably dramaticize it by saying it's stressed by a weight on his shoulders, hence the name atlas.
He can't promise the woman anything so he basically just lies to her because she's apparently very dumb by telling her that they'll go somewhere aka death instead of giving a straight answer.

i dunno he seems kinda autistic? maybe's she's playing him?

[Anonymous No.9288736]

>>9287629

I don't think I get it, but anyways, I don't really like it. Implying deviousness without delivering only serves to paint the one doing the implying as petty, unfounded.

[Anonymous No.9289809]

I don't understand whether it is poorly written or slightly autistic. Do this things have a secret meaning (which reveals the author more than he was aiming for) or is it just random blabbering that could came out of any kind of pleb mind?

[Anonymous No.9289815]

The poem is a reference to "Love Song" by Yeats.