ReContoured: Ezra Pound? Lewis Theobald? Colley Cibber?

At his age, does he not know every mention
of that which he dislikes draws more attention
to it?---a paradoxical convention.

But he prefers the flacid syllables
of dissolute lines playing parts not wholes;

these give expression to his broken soul's

wishful attempts at literary violence.

He could not thrive in long measures of silence.

He verticalized blocks of constipated
shambles staled prose that vituperated

with what he hoped was sharpwitted abuse,
but had not earned even the slightest chance---

not the slighest in any circumstance---

of being, in its smallness, consecrated

and blessed by the curvacious, shoeless muse.





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