Pablo Neruda

A while ago, I did a post about Rime of the Ancient Mariner - one of Coleridge's opium epics.

Anyway, in a fit of boredom today, I decided to see what was so utterly perverse about Pablo Neruda.
Some people I know who do the IB have to study his works, and the general feedback I get is that among other things, he needed to get laid.

I read some of his stuff, and all I can say is holy *numerous expletives in numerous languages*. This man had issues.

Who writes an ode to a flea?

You know how I said I could imagine Coleridge lying there in his opium den wondering what could rhyme with noon before hitting on the word 'bassoon' with an almost eureka-like enthusaism?

I can picture Neruda sitting there in his little poetry hole or den or nook or wherever the hell he wrote his poetry looking at sketches of naked women and saying in a seedy south american accent as he stroked his goatee (I know I'm verging into the lands of the politically incorrect, but seriously.) and said 'Hmmm. Now how can I describe this in a manner that will make students all over the world cringe when they read it...A-ha! I know! White hills!!!' (Scribbles away furiously).

That guy had issues.