[Aaron Poochigian]

John Whitworth,

thanks for joining us and for being so open. I wish our American conservatives were half as broad-minded as you are.

John Isbell,

yes, I confess, I meant the thread title to be irresistible.

[Ian Hoffman]

If the great poets of the 20th century were (in no particular order) Yeats, Auden and Eliot (an assessment with which I'd be inclined to agree), it's pretty amazing that Auden wrote this. Just try to imagine Yeats or Eliot writing something like this—it's sort of hilarious to think about. (Eliot's closest thing is the songs from "Cats".) I agree it's sort of doggerel, but it's pretty freakin' good doggerel.

[Aaron Poochigian]

Ian, yes, I agree--"good doggerel" indeed. A masterful imitation of doggerel. The poem is remarkable.

[David Anthony]

Originally Posted by John Isbell

I think the poem achieves its goals, and doesn't seem to require any more than that. Speaking as a man (though without experience in such things), I find the nine-inch member one unlikely touch. Though perhaps why not? Too bad Auden felt the need to disavow his own work as time played out.

Absolutely. Twelve inches is the least you'd expect.

[John Isbell]

At a minimum!

[Gail White]

I hate to say this of Auden, but I got bored with this before I was halfway through. I expected something short and to the point, like the limerick attributed to Swinburne:
There was a young girl from Aberystwyth
Who took grain to the mill to get grist with,
Where the miller's lad Jack
Threw her flat on her back
And united the organs they pissed with.

[Nigel Mace]

Thank heavens someone else was bored. The tedium was more tangible than anything else. I wanted my n minutes back.