for William Packard
You’ve moved Beethoven’s bust
from your main room—
crowded with head of Zeus
statue of Venus holding apple
bust of Shakespeare
framed Patchen poem
model’s color picture
and b&w of old professor
all above bookshelves
filled with leatherbound volumes
of modern and ancient classics
their browned pages
patched with bright red and yellow
smears of your highlight markers
flashing each ultimate phrase—
to your bathroom’s toilet top
where seeing it on Sunday
I recalled stories of him
reclused in dungeon-dirt room
ignorant of stench
from week-filled waste pot
and lack of light from lone candle
alert only to spirit symphony and
ink pen scratching on parchment
great phrases no one else had ever heard
Roger Armbrust
