Erotic Fridays: Edna St. Vincent Millay

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Knowing what we know about her, this can be taken a couple of ways, much like myself! Anyway, I think Death is a metaphor for people not really following a “traditional” lifestyle.  Then again, maybe I’m reading too much into this. Either way, this poem really speaks to me and you can trust me with all the passwords.  Have a great day.

F. M. Laster

“The best revenge is massive success.” – Frank Sinatra

Conscientious Objector

By Edna St. Vincent Millay

I shall die, but

that is all that I shall do for Death.

I hear him leading his horse out of the stall;

I hear the clatter on the barn-floor.

He is in haste; he has business in Cuba,

business in the Balkans, many calls to make this morning.

But I will not hold the bridle

while he clinches the girth.

And he may mount by himself:

I will not give him a leg up.

Though he flick my shoulders with his whip,

I will not tell him which way the fox ran.

With his hoof on my breast, I will not tell him where

the black boy hides in the swamp.

I shall die, but that is all that I shall do for Death;

I am not on his pay-roll.

I will not tell him the whereabout of my friends

nor of my enemies either.

Though he promise me much,

I will not map him the route to any man’s door.

Am I a spy in the land of the living,

that I should deliver men to Death?

Brother, the password and the plans of our city

are safe with me; never through me Shall you be overcome.

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