I am looking for an old poem that I found in high school. I only have a few lines and the words might not all be right. I have looked and looked and just can't seem to find it. Could you help? Here is what I have...
There are many ways to die, I often thought i'd try one. Lie down beneath a motor truck, one day while standing by one. Or throw myself from off a bridge, but such things must be so hard upon the fishers and men that clean the sea. I know some poison I could drink, I often thought i'd taste it, but mother bought it for the sink and drinking it would waste it.
I thank you for any help that you can give.
I Know a Hundred Ways To Die
---Edna St. Vincent Millay
I know a hundred ways to die.
I've often thought I'd try one:
Lie down beneath a motor truck
Some day when standing by one.
Or throw myself from off a bridge-
Except such things must be
So hard upon the scavengers
And men that clean the sea.
I know some poison I could drink.
I've often thought I'd taste it.
But mother bought it for the sink,
And drinking it would waste it.
That has a very similar feel to Dorothy Parker's famous Resume, but with a more selfless slant - great fun!
RESUME by Dorothy Parker
Razors pain you;
Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you;
And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren't lawful;
Gas smells awful;
You might as well live.
Five Ways to Kill a Man
There are many cumbersome ways to kill a man.
You can make him carry a plank of wood
To the top of a hill and nail him to it.
To do this
Properly you require a crowd of people
Wearing sandals, a cock that crows, a cloak
To dissect, a sponge, some vinegar and one
Man to hammer the nails home.
Or you can take a length of steel,
Shaped and chased in a traditional way,
And attempt to pierce the metal cage he wears.
But for this you need white horses,
English trees, men with bows and arrows,
At least two flags, a prince and a
Castle to hold your banquet in.
Dispensing with nobility, you may, if the wind
Allows, blow gas at him. But then you need
A mile of mud sliced through with ditches,
Not to mention black boots, bomb craters,
More mud, a plague of rats, a dozen songs
And some round hats made of steel.
In an age of aeroplanes, you may fly
Miles above your victim and dispose of him by
Pressing one small switch. All you then
Require is an ocean to separate you, two
Systems of government, a nation's scientists,
Several factories, a psychopath and
Land that no one needs for several years.
These are, as I began, cumbersome ways
To kill a man. Simpler, direct, and much more neat
Is to see that he lives somewhere in the middle
Of the twentieth century, and leave him there.