Here you will find the Poem To A Noisy Contemporary of poet Weldon Kees
Your ego?s bad dream drums that vision Encountered on page one, pages three to eighty-nine. Count the wound-up places where we went aground. As an entertainment, zero. Hero horror. Try the line Of incestuous relations, hearty friendship, or the cult Of the ectoplasmic navel and the ravishments of guilt. Page two was delightful. And the margins were wide; One was tempted by the imagery of bloody wrists, Your hysterogetic spasms and italicized reproofs. You may well supplant the tuba if the music lasts.
