Homework answers / question archive / Discuss the significance of the title of Ackerman’s poem “A Fine, a Private Place”—how it is an allusion and how it relates to the theme of the poem

Discuss the significance of the title of Ackerman’s poem “A Fine, a Private Place”—how it is an allusion and how it relates to the theme of the poem

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1. Discuss the significance of the title of Ackerman’s poem “A Fine, a Private Place”—how it is an allusion and how it relates to the theme of the poem.

NOTE: I don't want anything from internet I need from your own word make it good plz and the most important thing is I need a lot of quotes in the essay from the poem plz DO NOT WRITE a lot of unsupported general statements. Use a lot of quotes and other specific references from the poems to support your ideas.

A Fine, a Private Place He took her one day under the blue horizon where long sea fingers parted like beads hitched in the doorway of an opium den, and canyons m azed the deep reef with hollows, cul-de-sacs, and narrow boudoirs, and had to ask twice before she understood his stroking her arm with a m arine feather slobbery as aloe pulp was wooing, or saw the octopus in his swim suit stretch one tentacle and ripple its silky bag. W hile bubbles rose like globs of m ercury, they m ade love m ask to m ask, floating with oceans of air between them , she his sea-geisha in an orange kim ono of belts and vests, her lacquered hair waving, as Indigo Ham lets tattooed the vista, and sunlight cut through the water, twisting its knives into corridors of light. His sandy hair and sea-blue eyes, his kelp-thin waist and chest ribbed wider than a sandbar where m uscles dom ed clear and taut as shells (freckled cowries, flat, brawny scallops the color of dawn), his sea-battered hands gripping her thighs like tawny starfish and drawing her close as a pirate vessel to let her board: who was this she loved? Overhead, sponges sweating raw color jutted from a coral arch, Clown W rasses hovered like fireworks, and som ewhere an abalone opened by Diane Ackerm an 3 6 9 12 15 18 21 24 27 30 33 36 39 42 45 48 51 54 its silver wings. Part of a lusty dream under aspic, her hips rolled like a Spanish galleon. Her eyes swam and chest began to heave. Gasps m elted on the tide. Knowing she would soon be breathless as her tank, he pum ped his brine deep within her, letting sea water drive it through petals delicate as anem one veils to the dark purpose of a conch-shaped wom b. An ear to her loins would have heard the sea roar. W hen panting ebbed, and he signaled Okay? as lovers have asked, land or waterbound since tim e heaved ho, he led her to safety: shallower realm s, heading back toward the boat's even keel, though ocean still petted her cell by cell, m urm uring along her legs and neck, caressing her with pale, endless arm s. Later, she thought often of that blue boudoir, pillow-soft and filled with cascading light, where together they'd m ade a bell that dum bly clanged beneath the waves and m inutes lurched like m ountain goats. She could still see the quilted m osaics that were fish twitching spangles overhead, still feel the ocean inside and out, turning her evolution around. She thought of it m iles and fathom s away, often, at odd m om ents: watching the m innow snowflakes dip against the windowfram e holding a sponge idly under tap-gush, sinking her teeth into the cleft of a voluptuous peach.