What Julie just said. I remember first reading Whitman and Keats when I was about 16 ('Song of Myself' and 'The Eve of St Agnes' specifically). Both blew my mind. They still do. I had little context and no idea they were exemplars of some great poetic divide. I just read the linked poem. It's unfunny and pointless.
(And, as has been pointed out, with its wheelbarrow and plums tellingly inaccurate!)
Last edited by Mark McDonnell; 02-07-2017 at 01:28 PM.
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