Ezra Pound Poem

Poetic Eggs

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I am a grave poetic hen
That lays poetic eggs
And to enhance my temperament
A little quiet begs.

We make the yolk philosophy,
True beauty the albumen.
And then gum on a shell of form
To make the screed sound human.

Post Mortem Conspectu
Poem, Abbreviated from the conversation with Mr. T E H.

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