ever-repeating saga of the good ship Civilization foundering when a madman somehow seizes its helm.
I'm equally drawn to Donald Hall's "Exile," a poem that presents the double bonus of being a few syllables shorter than [W.H.] Auden's and having a draft history of dramatic excision: Hall initially composed and published the poem in a hundred lines, of which ninety-four were eventually trimmed:
from Brad Leithauser: The New Yorker: In Praise of Concision
then Brad Leithauser: NPR: The Case For Being Concise: Short Poems That Speak Volumes
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