nobody loses all the time by e e cummings: a poetry analysis (but if you're me you lose all the time)

poem:
nobody loses all the time

i had an uncle named
Sol who was a born failure and
nearly everybody said he should have gone
into vaudeville perhaps because my Uncle Sol could
sing McCann He Was A Diver on Xmas Eve like Hell Itself which
may or may not account for the fact that my Uncle

Sol indulged in that possibly most inexcusable
of all to use a highfalootin phrase
luxuries that is or to
wit farming and be
it needlessly
added

my Uncle Sol’s farm
failed because the chickens
ate the vegetables so
my Uncle Sol had a
chicken farm till the
skunks ate the chickens when

my Uncle Sol
had a skunk farm but
the skunks caught cold and
died and so
my Uncle Sol imitated the
skunks in a subtle manner

or by drowning himself in the watertank
but somebody who’d given my Uncle Sol a Victor
Victrola and records while he lived presented to
him upon the auspicious occasion of his decease a
scruptious not to mention splendiferous funeral with
tall boys in black gloves and flowers and everything and
i remember we all cried like the Missouri
when my Uncle Sol’s coffin lurched because
somebody pressed a button
(and down went
my Uncle

Sol

analysis:

Today we will be looking at nobody loses all the time, a poem by E. E. Cummings. Knowing a bit about E. E. Cummings, I knew some basic characteristics of his writing. He uses improper capitalization paired with awkward line breaks and transferred epithet to give his work an almost demented tone. This avant-garde style draws the reader in, and almost reminds me of the ramblings of a madman.

nobody loses all the time is a free verse poem, lacking any rhyme structure. It reads like a speech rather than a poem, and feels overly wordy for its subject matter; the story of an uncle named Sol, who seems to have failed for his entire life, just to drown himself to death. The poem mentions Sol having luxuries. Said luxuries are described as "a highfalootin phrase". Those luxuries are later mentioned in the form of a record player, and the person who gave that record player to Sol gave him a large funeral reception. From what I can see, the poem's message is no matter how hard you fail in life, you'll be remembered for the possessions you had, not the life you lived.

The concept of death and failure doesn't really resonate with me. There have been no deaths in my immediate family, and said family has lived productive lives. But, I do agree with the message of the poem. It is a sad truth that we must live with.  Will the murder victim, thrown onto a barren highway be remembered for the life he lived, or the wounds he bleeds from? Sadly, this proves that materialistic gains are the only things that matter anymore.