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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=345476" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Frog Prince</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Frau Doktor, <br>Mama Brundig, <br>take out your contacts, <br>remove your wig. <br>I write for you. <br>I entertain. <br>But frogs come out <br>of the sky like rain. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Frogs arrive <br>With an ugly fury. <br>You are my judge. <br>You are my jury. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">My guilts are what <br>we catalogue. <br>I’ll take a knife <br>and chop up frog. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Frog has not nerves. <br>Frog is as old as a cockroach. <br>Frog is my father’s genitals. <br>Frog is a malformed doorknob. <br>Frog is a soft bag of green. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The moon will not have him. <br>The sun wants to shut off <br>like a light bulb. <br>At the sight of him <br>the stone washes itself in a tub. <br>The crow thinks he’s an apple <br>and drops a worm in. <br>At the feel of frog <br>the touch-me-nots explode <br>like electric slugs. <br>Slime will have him. <br>Slime has made him a house. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Mr. Poison <br>is at my bed. <br>He wants my sausage. <br>He wants my bread. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Mama Brundig, <br>he wants my beer. <br>He wants my Christ <br>for a souvenir. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Frog has boil disease <br>and a bellyful of parasites. <br>He says: Kiss me. Kiss me. <br>And the ground soils itself.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Why <br>should a certain <br>quite adorable princess <br>be walking in her garden <br>at such a time <br>and toss her golden ball <br>up like a bubble <br>and drop it into the well? <br>It was ordained. <br>Just as the fates deal out <br>the plague with a tarot card. <br>Just as the Supreme Being drills <br>holes in our skulls to let <br>the Boston Symphony through. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But I digress. <br>A loss has taken place. <br>The ball has sunk like a cast-iron pot <br>into the bottom of the well. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Lost, she said, <br>my moon, my butter calf, <br>my yellow moth, my Hindu hare. <br>Obviously it was more than a ball. <br>Balls such as these are not <br>for sale in Au Bon Marché. <br>I took the moon, she said, <br>between my teeth <br>and now it is gone <br>and I am lost forever. <br>A thief had robbed by day. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Suddenly the well grew <br>thick and boiling <br>and a frog appeared. <br>His eyes bulged like two peas <br>and his body was trussed into place. <br>Do not be afraid, Princess, <br>he said, I am not a vagabond, <br>a cattle farmer, a shepherd, <br>a doorkeeper, a postman <br>or a laborer. <br>I come to you as a tradesman. <br>I have something to sell. <br>Your ball, he said, <br>for just three things. <br>Let me eat from your plate. <br>Let me drink from your cup. <br>Let me sleep in your bed. <br>She thought, Old Waddler, <br>those three you will never do, <br>but she made the promises <br>with hopes for her ball once more. <br>He brought it up in his mouth <br>like a tricky old dog <br>and she ran back to the castle <br>leaving the frog quite alone. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">That evening at dinner time <br>a knock was heard on the castle door <br>and a voice demanded: <br>King’s youngest daughter, <br>let me in. You promised; <br>now open to me. <br>I have left the skunk cabbage <br>and the eels to live with you. <br>The kind then heard her promise <br>and forced her to comply. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The frog first sat on her lap. <br>He was as awful as an undertaker. <br>Next he was at her plate <br>looking over her bacon <br>and calves’ liver. <br>We will eat in tandem, <br>he said gleefully. <br>Her fork trembled <br>as if a small machine <br>had entered her. <br>He sat upon the liver <br>and partook like a gourmet. <br>The princess choked <br>as if she were eating a puppy. <br>From her cup he drank. <br>It wasn’t exactly hygienic. <br>From her cup she drank <br>as if it were Socrates’ hemlock. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Next came the bed. <br>The silky royal bed. <br>Ah! The penultimate hour! <br>There was the pillow <br>with the princess breathing <br>and there was the sinuous frog <br>riding up and down beside her. <br>I have been lost in a river <br>of shut doors, he said, <br>and I have made my way over <br>the wet stones to live with you. <br>She woke up aghast. <br>I suffer for birds and fireflies <br>but not frogs, she said, <br>and threw him across the room. <br>Kaboom! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Like a genie coming out of a samovar, <br>a handsome prince arose in the <br>corner of her bedroom. <br>He had kind eyes and hands <br>and was a friend of sorrow. <br>Thus they were married. <br>After all he had compromised her. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">He hired a night watchman <br>so that no one could enter the chamber <br>and he had the well <br>boarded over so that <br>never again would she lose her ball, <br>that moon, that Krishna hair, <br>that blind poppy, that innocent globe, <br>that madonna womb.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Anne+Sexton">Anne Sexton</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=345476" data-title="The Frog Prince de Anne Sexton" data-description="Frau Doktor, 
Mama Brundig, 
take out your contacts, 
remove your wig. 
I write for you. 
I entertain. 
But frogs come out 
of the sky like rain. 

Frogs arrive 
With an ugly fury. 
You are my judge. 
You are my jury. 

My guilts are what 
we cata..."></div>
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