Is Byron a character? I guess those who knew him would say so . . .
Byron, To Auden
Dear Wystan (is it Wystan? Is it Hugh?)
Thanks for your letter dated ‘thirty-six.
I’ll own, I’d have preferred a billet-doux,
accompanied by those referenced naked pics,
from some fair thing—still, nice to hear from you.
Before I get to art or politics,
let me explain and then apologize
for this, the most belated of replies.
In Purgatory, as Virgil first explained,
one wears one’s designated wreath—he, an
old laurel—me, some thorny, brown thing. Pained
to find such rules here, I conspired Promethean
revolt, though, as in Greece, I nothing gained.
But, being dead (and bled) already, Lethean
mail service was denied me for a spate,
and that’s why this arrives so late.
I like you, Hugh, so please forgive my screed,
but, God damn, man! Icelandic travelogues
won’t ever make a really ripping read
when mixed with duller parts from catalogs
and diaries. Hugh, you’re gifted, I concede,
but you’ve an eye out for the pedagogues.
If you can’t be a little more rake-helly,
please send your future posts to P.B. Shelley.
__________________
-- Frank
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