That spoiled brats might just have feelings, too.

They’d have the usual ones, hostility

And sulking, and that adolescent brew

Of self-regard, fragility and rage.

But maybe Rimbaud had some emotion

Like love (No, please don’t laugh) kept in a cage

Submerged beneath his sorcerer’s ocean

Of cabalistic rituals, of zeal

For poetry so forceful and so fleet

That it could cause destruction, make him feel

Triumphant over tradition and meat.

  He could have felt a bruised affection for

    Paul, might have been more than a zealot bore.