26 Poems by Emily Dickinson
translated by Paul Legault
700. My favorite way to interact with people is to read letters from them, completely alone, in a locked room.
701. Children are better than real people.
702. I wouldn’t be so sad if I weren’t Emily Dickinson.
703. The sun came up this morning, and I saw it.
704. Today sucks balls.
705. Although it’s kind of embarrassing to be an old maid, I’m glad I never got married to a human.
706. I cannot be with you because you would make me happy, and that’s not my style.
707. Obese people hate small things.
708. I’m obsessed with your face. I want my face to be welded to your face forever.
709. I have suicidal tendencies.
710. Humans can’t survive inside of the sun because it is in a constant state of combustion, which keeps it at a temperature of approximately five million degrees Celsius.
711. God tried to kill me.
712. I asked this guy to marry me, and it scared him off.
713. Thanks so much for the endless amount of pain you gave me. Really. I’m not being sarcastic. Thanks.
714. Angels are plotting to destroy you.
715. Dying is really trippy.
716. Just when you need it the least, you find a pearl. I told you to get away from me, pearl. Shoo.
717. The stars promised me they would last forever, but they lied. All stars will inevitably die as their potential energy is limited by their finite mass. I’m going to sue them.
718. I have a vestigial third ear that I keep hidden because it’s kind of embarrassing.
719. Because you died, I have turned into a long, narrow excavation in the ground, the earth from which is thrown up in front to serve as a shelter from enemy fire or attack.
720. What if there were a sea inside of the sea that was inside of the sea that was inside of the sea that was inside of the sea…that was inside of the sea?
721. We cannot create a philosophy of abstract thought unless it is born out of the materiality of the concrete world.
722. Pallbearers are always the coolest people at a funeral.
723. Does anyone else have seasonal depression? If so, please raise your hand.
724. Everyone wants something even if they don’t want anything.
725. I don’t know.
The Emily Dickinson Reader was just published by McSweeney’s Books. Paul Legault is also the author of The Other Poems (Fence) and The Madeleine Poems (Omnidawn).
Why settle for one poem when you can DRENCH YOURSELF IN POETRY? Click here to enter the archives of The Poetry Section! You may contact the editor at email@example.com.