Italicized words from The Complete Prose of Marianne Moore (Viking Penguin, 1986, p. 645). And Ginsberg can be a compelling poet, but in Moore's words again, he "can foul the nest in a way to marvel at" (ibid., p. 537).

68th Letter to a Poet

Awake till three, I tried

reading Allen Ginsberg

but overdosed on his

naughty-boy language:

baldpate sophomore.


I nodded off to TV jazz

before I could turn

toward Wallace Stevens,

that incorruptible Eleazar

of the Apocrypha.


Half past seven now:

am contending against

the stiff day's blind

insistence, relentless

sanctimony of sun.


Sparrows chisel this

headstone of a Sunday;

I sit, all coffeed up,

still blear-brained

from short-breath'd sleep.

Poetry by Thomas DeFreitas The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2018-06-13 at 07:37

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Call It What You Will
by Thomas DeFreitas