Issue 66, Summer 1976
My weakness is for color words.
It doesn't begin to annoy until such time
As the parrots and Africas are
Once too many times labored.
But all the time I'm better at
Disguising this effect: by the time I'm thirty,
A critic will have to know me very well.
Or command a subtler
Understanding of poetry than most,
To detect the artificiality
The unfair insemination of balanced images,
Which are really plums off the same tree
And of invariable taste.