Great Regulars: Rilke's afterlife here becomes an eternity

of green in which he can blossom like a rose, as no doubt David [Foster Wallace] will in the minds of his devoted readers. But, ultimately, this childhood snapshot by Weldon Kees, a poet and presumed suicide, captures the innocent melody of my early friendship with David, while permitting--sandwiched in the center stanza--some rage against adding his death to the planet's roster of horror:

1926

from Mary Karr: The Washington Post: Poet's Choice

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