If I could tell you I’d let you know
Says Auntie H—she loves Auden
Who was himself a kind of avatar
Of feminine tragedy
Tricked out as History
She loves it also
When he says
“The boys are whooping in up on the moon”
As in, “take that Walter Cronkite”
She thinks how they should always send
Poets and musicians into space
Keats on the moon!
Like nature’s patient, sleepless Eremite…
Planet of the Blind 