The thought occurs to me :
           would a bird want to be
a butterfly or vice versa ?
            How attractive
are the featherless
           paper-thin wings
how appealing
           the more robust plumage
: each to his own
           I suppose

Wallace Stevens was
           obsessed with numbers
John Ashbery can be
           a little snooty about some
of Frank O’Hara’s poetry
           but Frank’s verse
is so full of friends
           it’s like a party on a page
and Ashbery’s pales
           in comparison

Today the rain has returned
           and I observe
the drizzle’s delicate lament
           for lost time
for the sad poetry of our being
           for the exuberance of our love
lately so neglected
           and for so much
of our lives
           gone to waste

John Lyons

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