[net.poems] Edvard Munch-- The Shriek 1910

sara@mhuxj.UUCP (TRIGS) (02/07/86)

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EDVARD MUNCH--THE SHRIEK 1910
Is there no one here to ask:
who is this who has lost his way
among unlistening stars?

All the body is pure sound
bursting from its edges
echoing back merely upon itself.

He has released the undulant world
like a womb.

This is the only shape such terror knows,
all contortion of flesh,
all noise--
helpless like a whisper against eternity.