The New Yorker: Poetry cover image

Tom Sleigh Reads Seamus Heaney

The New Yorker: Poetry

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The Back Drop of War

In the surfing palm, obviously, in the background of the palm is a yet not more tunnel. The chirp of the wave is actually a kind of fox hole or tunnel. And i think it's essential that the speaker is being tubed a,. and that there's a certain kind of danger there, but also acertain kind of elation. At the end of the poem, clearly, the fox is, ah, he's in the henhouse, and he's killing chickens. And there's aCertain kind of great elation. And that act of violence too, there's an explosive aspect there.

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