1998 Poem: a Woman’s World” (Eavan Boland) “It’s Prompt: The following poem was written by a contemporary woman, Eavan Boland. Read the poem carefully and then write an essay in which you analyze how the poem reveals the speaker’s complex conception of a world.” “woman’s It’s a World by Eavan Boland Our way of life star-gazers, has hardly changed fire-eaters. since a wheel first It’s our alibi whetted a knife. for all time: Maybe flame as far as history goes burns more greedily When the king’s head and wheels are steadier, gored its basket, but we’re the same: grim harvest, we were gristing bread we milestone our lives or getting the recipe with oversights, for a good soup. living by the lights It’s still the same: of the loaf left our windows by the cash register, moth our children the washing powder to the flame paid for and wrapped, of hearth not history. the wash left wet: And no page like most historic peoples scores the low music we are defined of our outrage. by what we forget Appearances reassure: and what we never will be: that there,
1998 Poem: “It’s a Woman’s World” (Eavan Boland) Prompt: The following poem was written by a contemporary woman, Eavan Boland. Read the poem carefully and then write an essay in which you analyze how the poem reveals the speaker’s complex conception of a “woman’s world.” It’s a World by Eavan Boland Our way of life has hardly changed since a wheel first whetted a knife. Maybe flame burns more greedily and wheels are steadier, but we’re the same: we milestone our lives with oversights, living by the lights of the loaf left by the cash register, the washing powder paid for and wrapped, the wash left wet: like most historic peoples we are defined by what we forget and what we never will be: star-gazers, fire-eaters. It’s our alibi for all time: as far as history goes When the king’s head gored its basket, grim harvest, we were gristing bread or getting the recipe for a good soup. It’s still the same: our windows moth our children to the flame of hearth not history. And no page scores the low music of our outrage. Appearances reassure: that there,
ap_poetry_essays_with_poems.docx