Mr Higginson and Miss Dickinson

Let’s say

We’re in the

US

      A

pril

Has been

Cut in half

Today

April

1862

A setting Greek to you

Or rather Yankee to you?

Exactly in the instant

When a certain

Mr

     H

as just had a long

Profound

Sip of coffee

And pushed

His spectacles

Back on his

Highly respectable nose

Now fighting

With an envelope

Containing

A few pages

From a yet unknown

Miss

D

                  aring for the first time

                  In her life

                  To seek critisism

                  To inquire

                  „Whether her

                  Verses breathed“

                                                                                                                             At that very moment

Literary history

Should have

Corked off

A mammoth

Champagne bottle

But it didn’t

For it knew nothing

Not yet

„Remarkable

Though odd

Too delicate

Not strong enough

To publish

Ma’am“

Plain geometry

Can see nothing

But a funny

Extra-terrestrial

In a cube

Nor could

Contemporary

Poetry

Dive in her ocean

Free

Deep

3-

  D

ickinson, Emily

A requiem

For 49 packets

Of folded stationary

That hadn’t touched

A printer

Before their

Mother

Was taken

By the dimension

No.

  4

            a genius

            A bit too ahead

            Of her time