Poetry Compare

Please write a 500-750 word expository essay that compares and contrasts any two of the poems. Your essay may explore any aspect of the poems you choose to write about – for example, a poem’s subject matter, style, form, audience, or meaning(s), among others. Your work should adhere to all MLA citation and reference protocols, including proper in-text citation and works cited guidelines. If you areMaple Valley Branch Library, 1967 BY RITA DOVEFor a fifteen-year-old there was plentyto do: browse the magazines,slip into the Adult section to seewhat vast tristesse was born of rush-hour traffic,decolletes, and the plague of too much money.There was so much to discover-how tolay out a road, the language of flowers,and the place of women in the tribe of Moost.There wereequations elegant as a French twist,fractal geometry’s unwinding maple leaf;I could follow,step-by-step, the slow disclosureof a pineapple Jell-O mold-or takethe path of Harold’s purple crayon throughthe bedroom window and onto a lavenderspill of stars. Oh, I could walk any aisleand smell wisdom, put a hand out to touchthe rough curve of bound leather,the harsh parchment of dreams.As for the improbable librarianwith her salt and paprika upsweep,her British accent and sweater clip(mom of a kid I knew from school)-I’d go up to her desk and ask for helpon bareback rodeo or binary codes,phonics, Gestalt theory,lead poisoning in the Late Roman Empire;the play of light in Dutch Renaissance painting;I would claim to be researchingprColumbianpotteror Chinese foot-binding,but all I wanted to know was:Tell me whatyou’ve read that keepthat half smile afloatabove the collar of your impeccable blouse.So I readGone with the Wind becauseit was big, and haiku because they were small.I studied history for its rhapsody of dateslingered over Cubist art for the wayit showed all sides of a guitar at once.All the time in the world was there, and sometimesall the world on a single page.As much as I could holdon my plastic cards imprint I took,greedily: six books, six volumes of bliss,the stuff we humans are made of:words and sighs and silence,ink and whips, Brahma and cosine,corsets and poetry and blood sugar levels-I carried it home, five blocks of aluminum sidingand past the old garage where, on its boarded-up doors,someone had scrawled:I CAN EAT AN ELEPHANTIF I TAKE SMALL BITES.Yes, I said to no one in particular: That’swhat I’m gonna do Heart to HeartBY RITA DOVEIt’s neither rednor sweet.It doesn’t meltor turn over,break or harden,so it can’t feelpain,yearning,regret.It doesn’t havea tip to spin on,it isn’t evenshapely—just a thick clutchofmuscle,lopsided,mute. Still,I feel it insideits cage soundinga dull tattoo:I want, I want—but I can’t open it:there’s no key.I can’t wear iton my sleeve,or tell you fromthe bottom of ithow I feel.Here,it’s all yours, now—but you’ll haveto take me,too.unsure of how to properly cite the texts you are working with.