[RCL]

And then there's Emily's (somewhat) slant critique of Whitman's "Song of Myself":

Emily to Walt

O vatic Walt, you loom so large—
A One-Man multitude—
An Ark—an overflowing Barge
Of Infinitude!

O Walt of whitecaps, Waves of Words—
My Quaint small vessels, tightly
Measured, sail in minor worlds,
But yours—through cyclones—Mighty.

O Skipper Walt! You sing of bathers—
Lovers and beloved—
Frolicking near sandy shores,
All welcomed—none refused.

O Walt, who shouts the Yes of Being
From your Mainmast’s top—
I can’t contain my Querying
Of your—Barbaric—Yawp!

First appeared in Amsterdam Quarterly; later in Ghost Trees