The Man With The Blue Guitar
from Stevens, Collected Poetry & Prose
from Notes
THE MAN WITH THE BLUE GUITAR
(unpublished Stanza X)
But then things never really are,
How does it matter how I play
Or what I color what I say?
It all depends on inter-play
Or inter-play and inter-say,
Like tweedle-dum and tweedle-dee,
Or ti-ri-la and ti-ri-li
And these I play on my guitar
And leave the final atmosphere
To the imagination of the engineer.
I could not find it if I would.
I would not find it if I could.
I cannot say what things I play,
Because I play things as they are
And since they are not as they are,
I play them on a blue guitar.