The Bones of Orpheus, the Hair of Keats
Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem
If we collected poets’ body parts
And put them in glass cases, would the world
Adore them there like saints? Pickled hearts
Of Rabbie Burns and Omar Khayyam furled
Together in formaldehyde might do
The trick. Poetic reliquaries lined
In satin silk the color of the blue
Above the sea of Lesbos like the mind
Of Sappho would bring palmers. Ezra Pound
Embodied by his fascist hand would bring
Another sort of worshipper. The drowned
Young Shelley’s ashes might make pilgrims sing.
..Some raisin rolls from Amherst in a box
….Would be more holy than her scissored locks.