Chieftain Iffucan of Azcan in caftan Of tan with henna hackles, halt! Damned universal cock, as if the sun Was blackamoor to bear your blazing tail. Fat! Fat! Fat! Fat! I am the personal. Your world is you. I am my world. You ten-foot poet among inchlings. Fat! Begone! An inchling bristles in these pines, Bristles, and points their Appalachian tangs, And fears not portly Azcan nor his hoos. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VARIATIONS: 10 by CONRAD AIKEN HAIL TEESSIDE! by CECIL DAY LEWIS ON THE SALE OF MY FARM by ROBERT FROST THE ARABIAN SHAWL by KATHERINE MANSFIELD DOMESDAY BOOK: MRS. GREGORY WENNER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS NOTHING WILL CURE THE SICK LION BUT TO EAT AN APE' by MARIANNE MOORE |