A Rouse for Stevens
Wallace Stevens, what's he done?
He can play the flitter-flad;
He can see the second sun
Spinning through the lordly cloud.
He's imagination's prince:
He can plink the skitter-bum;
How he rolls the vocables,
Brings the secret--right in Here!
Wallace, Wallace, wo ist er?
Never met him, Dutchman dear;
If I ate and drank like him,
I would be a chanticleer.
(TOGETHER)
Speak it from the face out clearly:
Here's a mensch but can sing dandy.
Er ist einmals ausgepoopen,
Altes Wunderkind.
(AUDIENCE)
Roar 'em, whore 'em, cockalorum,
The Muses, they must all adore him,
Wallace Stevens, are we for him?
Brother, he's our father!
- Theodore Roethke
Created by
guccipiggy
Last modified
2005-10-07 08:52 AM
