The Turtle By William Carlos Williams (1883-1963) (posted Wednesday, Nov. 26) To hear Robert Pinsky read "The Turtle," click . In the genre of the commissioned poem, there are not many as charming as this one. When Williams addresses the child as his noble patron ("my Lord") and alludes to the old myth of the tortoise that supports the universe, he slyly introduces the underlying weight of civilization and history into the interchange between him and the child. The matter-of-fact acceptance of the violence in the child's imagination is an interesting aspect of Williams' own omnivorous imagination. I don't think any other poet has succeeded in using the American word "car" as effectively as Williams does in this poem and others. -- Robert Pinsky Not because of his eyes, the eyes of a bird, but because he is beaked, birdlike, to do an injury, has the turtle attracted you. He is your only pet. When we are together you talk of nothing else ascribing all sortsof murderous motives to his least action. You ask meto write a poem, should I have a poem to write, about a turtle. The turtle lives in the mud but is not mud-like, you can tell it by his eyeswhich are clear. When he shall escape his present confinementhe will stride about the world destroying all with his sharp beak.Whatever opposes him in the streets of the city shall go down. Cars will be overturned. And upon his back shall ride,to his conquests, my Lord, you! You shall be master! In the beginning there was a great tortoisewho supported the world. Upon him All ultimatelyrests. Without him nothing will stand.He is all wise and can outrun the hare. In the nighthis eyes carry him to unknown places. He is your friend.