Posting poems to Instagram
is a good way for me to find
all the grammar mistakes
I failed to notice before.
Yesterday, Yeats. I thought
I had it finally done, having read
it through again and again, and
in the first stanza, an error.
And people had already liked it.
(If I delete, correct and repost, most
usually won't relike.) So what I tend
to do is to quickly bury the poem,
by posting more translations, make it
less likely to appear on timelines, perhaps,
push it farther down on my profile.
But this night, I'm too tired,
so I delay the poem's burial.
I'll let it there, a poem with a scar
unlike those of Prussian duelists
seeking badges of honour on flesh.
27.06.2024
#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse
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