PoemI Have No Gun,But I Can Spit
Author / PoetW H Auden
TagsBoundary, Isolation, Personal Space

Some thirty inches from my nose
The frontier of my Person goes,
And all the untilled air between
Is private pagus or demesne.
Stranger, unless with bedroom eyes
I beckon you to fraternize,
Beware of rudely crossing it:
I have no gun, but I can spit.

W H Auden
W H Auden
21 Feb 1907 - 29 Sep 1973
Region: British, Northern Europe
Period: Contemporary, Modernist
Movement: Modernism
Awards: National Book Award, Pulitzer Prize for Poetry

more poems by W H Auden

Poem NameTopic
Another TimeEphemeral, Eternity, Fugitive
This Lunar BeautyIllusion, Love
Refugee BluesDisplacement, Exile, Refugees
O What Is That SoundConflict, Fear, Military Invasion
LullabyBeauty, Faithfulness, Love
Lady Weeping at the CrossroadsJourney, Love, Sacrifice
Funeral BluesDespair, Elegy, Loss
45 Mercy StreetBeacon, Dream, Lost
In Praise Of LimestoneEternal, Myth, Reality

all poems by W H Auden

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