Image result for dorothy parker

The really good poet is disliked by the other poets.

Hate. Hate. Hate.

When John Keats dies, they’ll love him.

Wait. Wait. Wait.

When the sun eclipses the stars,

It is only because you are here.

Tell the professor! Get his opinion!

It will be different next year.

John Crowe Ransom, the sun,

Prefers his manuscript, the moon,

Up there on the glittering stage.

Kangaroos will be reading us soon.

Engage. Engage. Engage.

Wallace Stevens is feeling faint

From too much beer.

George Santayana!

The Modernist calendar is here.

Mrs. Dante is sending invitations

By pony express.

The whereabouts of Mrs. T.S. Eliot

Is anyone’s guess.

A fiendishly sexy Edna Millay,

A terribly sad Dorothy Parker.

No. Get out your marker.

The lighting makes her look that way.



1 Comment

  1. noochinator said,

    September 14, 2019 at 12:54 am

    A musical setting, by Lars Johan Werle, of Parker’s “From a letter from Lesbia”:

    So, praise the gods, at last he’s away!
    And let me tend you this advice, my dear:
    Take any lover that you will, or may,
    Except a poet. All of them are queer.
    It’s just the same — a quarrel or a kiss
    Is but a tune to play upon his pipe.
    He’s always hymning that or wailing this;
    Myself, I much prefer the business type.
    That thing he wrote, the time the sparrow died.
    (Oh, most unpleasant, gloomy, tedious words!)
    I called it sweet, and made believe I cried;
    The stupid fool!
    I’ve always hated birds …

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