Classic Poem

[ First Version ]

an american papermatch packet
closed, gilt with a panel insert,
the bank, a narrow building
black, in a blue sky, puffs of

white cloud, the small windows
in perspective, bright green grass
a sixinch metal tray, polished
bronze, holding a blue pencil

hexagonal, a bright gilt metal
butt catching the window light,
the dullred eraser well worn
down and a cheap brownenameled

pen holder rest on the brown
mottled crust of the stained blotter
by an oystershell smudged
with cigarette ash, a primrose plant

in a gold ringed saucer, flowerless,
surfaces of all sorts
bearing printed characters, bottles,
words printed on the backs of

two telephone directories
The Advertising Biographical
Calendar of Medicine, Wednesday 18
Thursday 19, Friday 20, papers

of various shades sticking out
from under others, throwing
the printing out of line: portrait
of all that which we have lost,

a truncated pyramid, bronzed
metal (probably the surface
only) to match the tray, to which
a square, hinged lid is fixed,

the inkstand, from whose
imagined top the Prince of Wales
having climbed up once with all
his might drove a golf ball