Analysis of The Grocery

Amy Lowell 1874 (Brookline) – 1925 (Brookline)



'Hullo, Alice!'
'Hullo, Leon!'
'Say, Alice, gi' me a couple
O' them two for five cigars,
Will yer?'
'Where's your nickel?'
'My! Ain't you close!
Can't trust a feller, can yer.'
'Trust you! Why
What you owe this store
Would set you up in business.
I can't think why Father 'lows it.'
'Yer Father's a sight more neighbourly
Than you be. That's a fact.
Besides, he knows I got a vote.'
'A vote! Oh, yes, you got a vote!
A lot o' good the Senate'll be to Father
When all his bank account
Has run away in credits.
There's your cigars,
If you can relish smokin'
With all you owe us standin'.'
'I dunno as that makes 'em taste any diff'rent.
You ain't fair to me, Alice, 'deed you ain't.
I work when anythin's doin'.
I'll get a carpenterin' job next Summer sure.
Cleve was tellin' me to-day he'd take me on come Spring.'
'Come Spring, and this December!
I've no patience with you, Leon,
Shilly-shallyin' the way you do.
Here, lift over them crates o' oranges
I wanter fix 'em in the winder.'
'It riles yer, don't it, me not havin' work.
You pepper up about it somethin' good.
You pick an' pick, and that don't help a mite.
Say, Alice, do come in out o' that winder.
Th' oranges c'n wait,
An' I don't like talkin' to yer back.'
'Don't you! Well, you'd better make the best o' what
you can git.
Maybe you won't have my back to talk to soon.
They look good in pyramids with the 'lectric light on 'em,
Don't they?
Now hand me them bananas
An' I'll string 'em right acrost.'
'What do yer mean
'Bout me not havin' you to talk to?
Are yer springin' somethin' on me?'
'I don't know 'bout springin'
When I'm tellin' you right out.
I'm goin' away, that's all.'
'Where? Why?
What yer mean - goin' away?'
'I've took a place
Down to Boston, in a candy store
For the holidays.'
'Good Land, Alice,
What in the Heavens fer!'
'To earn some money,
And to git away from here, I guess.'
'Ain't yer Father got enough?
Don't he give yer proper pocket-money?'
'He'd have a plenty, if you folks paid him.'
'He's rich I tell yer.
I never figured he'd be close with you.'
'Oh, he ain't. Not close.
That ain't why.
But I must git away from here.
I must! I must!'
'You got a lot o' reason in yer
To-night.
How long d' you cal'late
You'll be gone?'
'Maybe for always.'
'What ails yer, Alice?
Talkin' wild like that.
Ain't you an' me goin' to be married
Some day.'
'Some day! Some day!
I guess the sun'll never rise on some day.'
'So that's the trouble.
Same old story.
'Cause I ain't got the cash to settle right now.
You know I love yer,
An' I'll marry yer as soon
As I c'n raise the money.'
'You've said that any time these five year,
But you don't do nothin'.'
'Wot could I do?
Ther ain't no work here Winters.
Not fer a carpenter, ther ain't.'
'I guess you warn't born a carpenter.
Ther's ice-cuttin' a plenty.'
'I got a dret'ful tender throat;
Dr. Smiles he told me
I mustn't resk ice-cuttin'.'
'Why haven't you gone to Boston,
And hunted up a job?'
'Have yer forgot the time I went expressin'
In the American office, down ther?'
'And come back two weeks later!
No, I ain't.'
'You didn't want I should git hurted,
Did yer?
I'm a sight too light fer all that liftin' work.
My back was commencin' to strain, as 'twas.
Ef I was like yer brother now,
I'd ha' be'n down to the city long ago.
But I'm too clumsy fer a dancer.
I ain't got Arthur's luck.'
'Do you call it luck to be a disgrace to your folks,
And git locked up in jail!'
'Oh, come now, Alice,
`Disgrace' is a mite strong.
Why, the jail was a joke.
Art's all right.'
'All right!
All right to dance, and smirk, and lie
For a livin',
And then in the end
Lead a silly girl to give you
What warn't hers to give
By pretendin' you'd marry her -
And she a pupil.'
'He'd ha' married her right enough,
Her folks was millionaires.'
'Yes, he'd ha' married her!
Thank God, they saved her that.'
'Art's a fine feller.
I wish I had his luck.
Swellin' round in Hart, Schaffner & Marx fancy suits,
And eatin' in rest'rants.
But somebody's got to stick to the old place,
Else Foxfield'd have to shut up shop,
Hey, Alice?'
'You admire him!
You admire Arthur!
You'd be like him only you can't dance.
Oh, Shame! Shame!
And I've been like that silly girl.
Fooled with your promises,
And I give you all I had.
I knew it, oh, I knew it,
But I wanted to git away 'fore I proved it.<


Scheme Text too long
Poetic Form
Metre 110 110 11011010 1111101 11 1110 1111 1101011 111 11111 1111010 11111011 1100111 111101 01111101 01111101 0111011110 111101 1101010 1101 111101 111111 101111111011 1111110111 11111 110111101 111111111111 1101010 11101110 110111 1110111100 11110010 111111111 110101111 1111011101 11011011110 11100111 111110111 11111010111 111 10111111111 1110100101111 11 1111010 111111 1111 11111111 111111 11111 111111 110111 11 111101 1101 111000101 1010 1110 100101 11110 011011111 1110101 1111101010 1101011111 11111 1101011111 11111 111 11110111 1111 110111001 11 111111 111 1011 11110 10111 111111110 11 1111 1101101111 11010 1110 11110111011 11111 1110111 11111010 111101111 111110 1111 1111110 11010011 1111110100 111010 1101101 11111 110111 11011110 010101 110101111 0001001011 0111110 111 11011111 11 10111111101 11111111 11111101 111111010101 111101010 111101 1111111001111 011101 11110 011011 101101 111 11 11110101 101 01001 10101111 111011 111100 01010 11100101 01101 111100 111101 10110 111111 1101101101 0101 1101111011 1111111 110 1011 10110 111110111 111 01111101 111100 0111111 1111111 111011011111
Closest metre Iambic trimeter
Characters 4,142
Words 867
Sentences 109
Stanzas 1
Stanza Lengths 144
Lines Amount 144
Letters per line (avg) 21
Words per line (avg) 6
Letters per stanza (avg) 3,064
Words per stanza (avg) 825
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Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on March 05, 2023

4:29 min read
93

Amy Lowell

Amy Lawrence Lowell was an American poet of the imagist school from Brookline, Massachusetts who posthumously won the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry in 1926. more…

All Amy Lowell poems | Amy Lowell Books

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