Kindly upload your answers on the comments section of this entry on or before November 26, 2015. Have a good time!
With a partner, discuss the following:
1. Identify least 3 symbols found in the poems. What do these symbols stand for?
2. Discuss how these symbols help achieve the meaning of the poem.
3 For Girls Working in Banks, discuss how Shapiro described to us the nature of banks and hoe important these establishments to different kinds of civilization.
4. For Loose Woman, Who killed the woman. Why do you say that is the killed?
5. A. What is the theme of Girls Working in Banks?
B. What is the theme of Loose Woman?
6. Kindly upload your softcopy on my blogspot on or before Thursday, Nov. 26, 2015.
Girls Working in Banks
By: karl Shapiro
Girls working I banks wear bouffant hair and shed
In their passage over the rather magnificent floors
Tiny shreds of perforated paper, body flakes.
They walk through rows of youngwish vice-presidents
With faraway looks, who dandle pencils and tend to ignore
The little tigerish lights flashing on their telephones.
When the girls return to their stations behind a friendly grid
They out money neatly or graciously take it,
For not far from them the great interior glow of a vault
Built out of beaten dimes, stands open, shines,
Beaming security without ostentation.
If you glance inside it there’s nothing to be seen
But burnished drawers and poslished steel elbows
Of the great machine of the door. It’s s speckles world
With nobody inside it, like the bestroom in a crate.
The girls change places frequently, moving their own addresses
From Open to close, next counter, or they walk away
With surprising freedom behind a wall or rise up on escalators
Past aging and well-groomed guards whose pistols seem
Almost a apologetic as they watch people
Bending over Formica stand-up desks writing
With ballpoint pens attached to rosary chains,
After which the people select a queue in which they stand
Pious, abashed at the papery transactions,
And eventually walk with the subtlest sense if relief
Out of revolving doors into the glorious anonymous streets.
By: X.J. Kennedy
Someone who well new how shed toss her chin
Passing the firehouse oglers, at their taunt,
Let it be flung up higher than shed want,
Just held fast by a little hinge of skin
Two boys come from the river
Of underbrush and stooped. One wrecked a pair
Of sneakers blundering into her hair
And that day made a different sort of catch.
Her next-best talent, setting tonues to buzz,
Lasts longer than her best. It still occurs
To wonderhad she been our fault or hers
And had she loved him. Who the bastard was,
Though long tyhey asked and notebooked round about
And turned up not afew who would have known
That white inch where her neck met shoulderbone,
Was one thing more we never did find out.