It's clear I've missed a few stellar odes
on my way to do the laundry—cracks
in the canon, Li Po and Heaney's gold.
I make school lunches dressed in black,
heave mustard, ham and mayo on the bread
while pondering what Yeats meant:
What need have you to care for wind (he said)
or water's roar? It's evident
he wrote this for a child or adolescent,
the one whose algebra is calling from
another room, who studies hardest
after 10:00 p.m.
And now the sink is plugged again...
Done with Auden, ditto Pound.
What use is rhyme
or meter when the day is left to climb?
Sandwich photo courtesy of George Hatcher. Browse George's photostream on Flickr.