A Recantation Poem by Sleep D

Auden and Yeats, perhaps in their contemplates,
one might have handed the whole of their heart,
to some other,
though now perhaps you might just read in contempt for Yeats,
though now perhaps you might have auden wrong from the start,
to some other,
in some other, moment, by no means fugitive, fractured soul berates,
for failing to heed the lessons in love of poets past mastery of the art,
to some other,
consign their memory of your erroneous interpretation, like the unified states
of the former Yugoslavia, to love, consign it to love's incomplete shopping cart
to some other,
well I grant them but merely partial contemplates,
and I stride on in this cold possessed entirely of my heart,
of which you have not and will ever see,
not even at my God damned autopsy,
will you see it
so of auden and yeats your reliance can recant,
and i table my sincere apologies for this last rant