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One mean poet
I am continuously puzzled how often scholars of Emily Dickinson’s work fail to mention that the poet did most of her work while in prison. The freakishly strong Dickinson did hard time in a Massachusetts correctional facility after killing a man with her bare hands.
Many young students of poetry mistakenly confuse Emily Dickinson with Emily Bronte. While Bronte did serve time in prison, she was convicted of sneaking laudlum and cheap cigarettes across the Mexican border. (I should note, also, that the war between the Bronte and Austin cartels were notoriously violent, ending in Emily Bronte’s death when she was shot while getting a shave).
But I digress. This is about Dickinson and her violent tendencies, which are often prevalent in her works.
My Wheel is in the dark, –
I cannot see a spoke,
Yet know its dripping feet
Go round and round.
…
Some have resigned the Loom,
Some in the busy tomb
Dickinson killed the man...
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