Ezra Pound Poem

Epilogue

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O chansons foregoing
You were a seven days’ wonder.
When you came out in the magazines
You created considerable stir in Chicago,
And now you are stale and worn out,
You’re a very depleted fashion,
A hoop-skirt, a calash,
An homely, transient antiquity.
Only emotion remains.
Your emotions?
          Are those of a maitre-de-cafe.

Epitaphs
E.P. Ode Pour L'election De Son Sepulchre

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