Keats
A second Keats. The one who wrote
“To Sleep” and “The Elgin
Marbles” -
And the other third rate trash,
Like poets write today.
I want to be the second Keats,
Afraid I am the other.
In either case, I'm neither Keats.
Such beauty in some words!
Was Keats so much in love with death
Imploring in his songs
To die? He did. And gave the crowd
Another sacred image.
The boy who said things
backwards
The boy who said things backwards
Was much too sad to play.
Was much too sad to play.
Everything he meant to say
Came out the other way.
When he wished to live
He said, “I want to die.”
When he told the truth,
When he told the truth,
He said, “This is a lie.”
So he rode to Brooklyn
To be murdered there and stay.
Sure enough a hoodlum
Approached him with a shiv.
The little boy as normal said,
“I do not want to die.”
The Steppenwolf
The freedom of America
Is Hesse's magic tent.
The Steppenwolf's
Americans at play.
Someone made them free,
And they collective with a
knife
Murdered art and beauty,
music
And the naked woman.
The Steppenwolf had less
imagination
Than his freedom.
Make him free.
He'll use it to destroy.
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