{"title":"无标题的诗","authors":"Martha Aldenbrand","doi":"10.1353/rcr.2011.0031","DOIUrl":null,"url":null,"abstract":"Th is is a crazy game of tenderness, talk softly, rock back and forth, laugh long and quietly, say I am schizophrenic but you can come in, let’s play this quiet game, pretend we’re squeezing grapes with our tongues and tasting the juices dripping down. We’re in a yellow attic, I will show you the clothes of the period, I have a muff . Do you love me for that, for showing you something that is only us? Baby, slip on this shaggy coat and we’ll walk out through the rafters.","PeriodicalId":158814,"journal":{"name":"Red Cedar Review","volume":"1 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0000,"publicationDate":"2011-08-06","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":"0","resultStr":"{\"title\":\"Untitled Poem\",\"authors\":\"Martha Aldenbrand\",\"doi\":\"10.1353/rcr.2011.0031\",\"DOIUrl\":null,\"url\":null,\"abstract\":\"Th is is a crazy game of tenderness, talk softly, rock back and forth, laugh long and quietly, say I am schizophrenic but you can come in, let’s play this quiet game, pretend we’re squeezing grapes with our tongues and tasting the juices dripping down. We’re in a yellow attic, I will show you the clothes of the period, I have a muff . Do you love me for that, for showing you something that is only us? Baby, slip on this shaggy coat and we’ll walk out through the rafters.\",\"PeriodicalId\":158814,\"journal\":{\"name\":\"Red Cedar Review\",\"volume\":\"1 1\",\"pages\":\"0\"},\"PeriodicalIF\":0.0000,\"publicationDate\":\"2011-08-06\",\"publicationTypes\":\"Journal Article\",\"fieldsOfStudy\":null,\"isOpenAccess\":false,\"openAccessPdf\":\"\",\"citationCount\":\"0\",\"resultStr\":null,\"platform\":\"Semanticscholar\",\"paperid\":null,\"PeriodicalName\":\"Red Cedar Review\",\"FirstCategoryId\":\"1085\",\"ListUrlMain\":\"https://doi.org/10.1353/rcr.2011.0031\",\"RegionNum\":0,\"RegionCategory\":null,\"ArticlePicture\":[],\"TitleCN\":null,\"AbstractTextCN\":null,\"PMCID\":null,\"EPubDate\":\"\",\"PubModel\":\"\",\"JCR\":\"\",\"JCRName\":\"\",\"Score\":null,\"Total\":0}","platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":null,"PeriodicalName":"Red Cedar Review","FirstCategoryId":"1085","ListUrlMain":"https://doi.org/10.1353/rcr.2011.0031","RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":null,"ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":null,"EPubDate":"","PubModel":"","JCR":"","JCRName":"","Score":null,"Total":0}
Th is is a crazy game of tenderness, talk softly, rock back and forth, laugh long and quietly, say I am schizophrenic but you can come in, let’s play this quiet game, pretend we’re squeezing grapes with our tongues and tasting the juices dripping down. We’re in a yellow attic, I will show you the clothes of the period, I have a muff . Do you love me for that, for showing you something that is only us? Baby, slip on this shaggy coat and we’ll walk out through the rafters.
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