A LAD whose life is pure and clean— His stuff is cosmic, sempiternal; Whether in @3Harper's Magazine@1 Or in the so-called @3Evening Journal.@1 He needs no 24-point blurb, His verse requires no Gothic 10-point, For folks to say, "Believe me, Herb, Some ooze comes off of @3that@1 guy's pen point!" I wrote some poetry at home— I lived, you know, at Sabine Junction— A wolf came up and glimpsed my pome, And slammed the door with vulpine unction. A big, big, big, big wolf was he: (And if you crave corroboration, Look up Ode 22 and see The difficulties of translation.) Lived I where Kipling pens his rhymes, Or where Le Gallienne pens his stanzas; And worked I for the London @3Times,@1 Or for a sheet in Howell, Kansas— Oh, ship me to some desert isle Or leave me in my Conning Tower, Still shall I sing my Carrie's smile And love its cardiac motive power. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MY HUT; AFTER TRAN QUANG KHAI by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE ORANGE PICKER by DAVID IGNATOW VERY EARLY SPRING by KATHERINE MANSFIELD TO BE LIKED BY YOU WOULD BE A CALAMITY by MARIANNE MOORE AND THEY OBEY by CARL SANDBURG HUFFMAN'S PHOTOGRAPH OF THE GRAVES OF THE UNKNOWN AT LITTLE BIGHORN by KAREN SWENSON |