More good stuff, Ralph. I’d have given up on this thread long ago if it weren’t for you. Here’s a 1963 monorhyme from John Updike:
I Missed His Book, but I Read His Name
“The Silver Pilgrimage,” by M. Anantanarayanan … 160 pages. Criterion. $3.95.
—The New York Times
Though authors are a dreadful clan,
To be avoided if you can,
I’d like to meet the Indian,
M. Anantanarayanan.
I picture him as short and tan,
We’d meet, perhaps, in Hindustan,
I’d say, with admirable élan,
“Ah, Anantanarayanan,
I’ve heard of you. The Times once ran
A notice on your novel, an
Unusual tale of God and Man.”
And Anantanarayanan
Would seat me on a lush divan
And read his name—that sumptuous span
Of “a”s and “n”s more lovely than
“In Xanadu did Kubla Khan”—
Aloud to me all day. I plan
Henceforth to be an ardent fan
Of Anantanarayanan,
M. Anantanarayanan.
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