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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=459598" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>After Poetry-reading (with apologies to Robert Frost)</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">My library door’s still open<br>with its invitations and its promises</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and empty shelves waiting to be filled<br>and on the table two or three new books</div><div style="margin:10px 0">yet unread; but I’m done with poetry-reading now.<br>I’m sleepy; I’m full of poetry; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">smell of poetry; taste of poetry; <br>close to, you can hear me buzz..</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I can’t get the sound of other poets<br>out of my head.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sometimes it’s envy; sometimes<br>just annoyance, like the sound</div><div style="margin:10px 0">of the man next door with his buzz-saw; <br>and I can’t help hearing, too, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">the sound of postboy bringing yet more books<br>by other poets; the presses rumbling</div><div style="margin:10px 0">with yet more poetry books to come..<br>some, I fear, they’ll ask me to ‘review’..</div><div style="margin:10px 0">yes, I’ve had too much of what<br>I helped to start – that great harvest</div><div style="margin:10px 0">of ‘American Poetry’ ten thousand thousand<br>graduates of college courses; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">chapbooks, self-print, little mags, by the barrel-load<br>and so many bad apples to each barrel; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">fruiting like sour crabs <br>on the dead wood of faculty appointments; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">how much wood can this woodchuck chuck, <br>amidst the woods and two paths’ luck? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">jeez, I’m sleepy; feel a long sleep coming on; <br>the book I’m holding slides from my hands, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">its pages turn without my turning them; <br>like you, my fingers, mind… frost-bitten.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Michael+Shepherd">Michael Shepherd</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=459598" data-title="After Poetry-reading (with apologies to Robert Frost) de Michael Shepherd" data-description="My library door’s still open with its invitations and its promises and empty shelves waiting to be filled and on the table two or three new books yet unread; but I’m done with poetry-reading now. I’m sleepy; I’m full of poetry; smell o..."></div> </div> </div>
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