/lit/ - Literature

>song about music

>post about posting

>derp about derping

>>11034580
>movie about movies

>>11034580
>poem about poetry
I tend to agree but Michael C. Ford blasted it with "Polluting the Poetry Pool".

>>11034580
I'm amazed at how many "major" poets have this shit in their catalogue
embarrassing desu

>poem about facefucking your critics

>>11034580
Catch is pretty good desu

Two boys uncoached are tossing a poem together,
Overhand, underhand, backhand, sleight of hand, everyhand,
Teasing with attitudes, latitudes, interludes, altitudes,
High, make him fly off the ground for it, low, make him stoop,
Make him scoop it up, make him as-almost-as possible miss it,
Fast, let him sting from it, now, now fool him slowly,
Anything, everything tricky, risky, nonchalant,
Anything under the sun to outwit the prosy,
Over the tree and the long sweet cadence down,
Over his head, make him scramble to pick up the meaning,
And now, like a posy, a pretty one plump in his hands.

>>11034580

Is this a poem about a fox using the act of writing as a metaphor? Or is it a poem about writing, using a fox as a metaphor?
Answer: Yes. (And it's great.)

"The Thought-Fox"
Ted Hughes

I imagine this midnight moment's forest:
Something else is alive
Beside the clock's loneliness
And this blank page where my fingers move.

Through the window I see no star:
Something more near
Though deeper within darkness
Is entering the loneliness:

Cold, delicately as the dark snow
A fox's nose touches twig, leaf;
Two eyes serve a movement, that now
And again now, and now, and now

Sets neat prints into the snow
Between trees, and warily a lame
Shadow lags by stump and in hollow
Of a body that is bold to come

Across clearings, an eye,
A widening deepening greenness,
Brilliantly, concentratedly,
Coming about its own business

Till, with a sudden sharp hot stink of fox,
It enters the dark hole of the head.
The window is starless still; the clock ticks,
The page is printed.

>>11034580
>book about books

>>11037156
;)

>Where'er you find "the cooling western breeze",
>In the next line, it "whispers through the trees":
>If "crystal streams with pleasing murmurs creep",
>The reader's threaten'd (not in vain) with "sleep".
Was Pope the ultimate master of the bants?

>posts about posts

>>11037178
This is exactly those threads on /mu/ that start with a sad frog image and the text
>fire
>desire
or
>I'm on my knees
>begging you please.

>>11034580
that's how I got through any poetry unit in middle/high school.

>novel is about an author writing a novel

>>11034841
fuck off, Stevens will always be the goat