Saturday, 23 January 2010

Avant-Stevens (2)

Poem in a **Hotel

In a corner of my ** hotel room
On top of the convenient mini-bar

There sits an old and tragic poem.

You too have memorised the well-worn catchwords
And wallowed in the well-worn phrases.

For us, today, the text is writ in crimson
And the words to follow repeat themselves backwards.

The right becomes left.
The left becomes right.

[ :: breaking ]
[ king news : ]

The night is long ...

Somewhere it's day.

I stretch out my arm,

And reach for Stevens.



  1. Should I know who Stevens is? Have I missed a post or do you assume I know? With this poem I would have to think long and hard as to what I thought of it - but nevertheless I wish I had written it.

  2. Thank you Weaver. By the way, Stevens is the insurance man & poet Wallace Stevens. In the previous post there's also included a picture of him.
    R S Thomas the Welsh priest & poet was a reader of Stevens. And so I naturally I came to him.

  3. What a joy! Just glad it wasn't a **** hotel as I wouldn't know the word!

  4. Thank you Gordon. With a ****hotel, I suppose the word might be 'rank'.



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