Another Poem of the Day for 10/7

Not Waving But Drowning
by Stevie Smith

Nobody heard him, the dead man,
But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving but drowning.

Poor chap, he always loved larking
And now he's dead
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
They said.

Oh, no no no, it was too cold always
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
I was much too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning.

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I chose this as the poem of the day because it reminded me of Mary Merrill's poem of the day, "Richard Cory," and because I had recently read a short story that referenced this poem. In the story, which was also titled "Not Waving But Drowning," a girl received a prediction that she would die like this. In the third and fourth lines of this poem, the dead man says what he had failed to say during his life: everyone around him had perceived him incorrectly. This poem lacks quotation marks for the dead man and the people around him referenced as "they," and the purpose of that may be for this to sound more straightforward and direct than a dialogue. The repetitiveness of several phrases also makes this poem a little bit singsong-y, which contrasts with the topic of the poem and makes it even more morbid.