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Non Nostrum
"Non nostrum inter vos tantas componere lites . . ."
---Vergil, Eclogues, III
[Palaemon, loquitor, to Narcissus]
Bucolic poems proclaim earth's seasons, and love's phases.
But in the convolutions of your shattered mind,
you count shadows that lurk there: using others' phrases,
you give expression to your tedious malaises.
You think that you are making epic catalogues---
but sing sinking sands or stinking mire in old bogs.
The curve of inspiration leaves your scribs behind.
"Frigidus -o pueri, fugite hinc- latet anguis in herba . . ."
---Vergil, op. cit. supra
Starward
