“Give me some light!” cries Hamlet’s
uncle midway through the murder
of Gonzago. “Light! Light!” cry scattering
courtesans. Here, as in Denmark,
it’s dark at four, and even the moon
shines with only half a heart.
Predelictions – Claire Bateman
The Baron is interested in dirigibles but not balloons;
The Barnoness in infants, not toddlers;
I’m here to be cruel
regretted the heaven official
Poetry – Marianne Moore
I, too, dislike it: there are things that are important beyond
all this fiddle.
Reading it, however, with a perfect contempt for it, one
discovers that there is in
it after all, a place for the genuine.
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