In lieu of actual content: Poetry!

I've been remiss in posting poetry, either mine or others', for poetry month, but I've been inspired. byronium posted a gorgeously evocative David Wagoner poem, which reminded me of how I first discovered and fell in love with Wagoner's poetry: looking online for a particular Wallace Stevens poem back in junior high and not yet versed in good search techniques, I stumbled across "Wallace Stevens on His Way to Work." Below is the Stevens poem I was looking for, which is one of my absolute favorite pieces of literature to read out loud because "whip/In kitchen cups concupiscent curds" rolls off the tongue like no other phrase in the language. You can find Wagoner's "Wallace Stevens on His Way to Work" here, and another of my favorite Wagoner poems here.

The Emperor of Ice Cream
Wallace Stevens

Call the roller of big cigars,
The muscular one, and bid him whip
In kitchen cups concupiscent curds.
Let the wenches dawdle in such dress
As they are used to wear, and let the boys
Bring flowers in last month's newspapers.
Let be be finale of seem.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.

Take from the dresser of deal,
Lacking the three glass knobs, that sheet
On which she embroidered fantails once
And spread it so as to cover her face.
If her horny feet protrude, they come
To show how cold she is, and dumb.
Let the lamp affix its beam.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.