Dealing with Delmore
 
So, I’m playing poker with Delmore Schwartz
and I want to know what he thinks
about the state of current affairs, but he’s working
on an inside straight and I’m tempted to fold.
“One,” he says, and I deal him the one he wants.
I can tell because he’s shifted in his chair,
settling back. “Women will rob you of
your passion,” he says. “There’s no poetry in that.”
I hear about his wife’s infidelity and try again.
“What of the nature of art in the information age?”
He ups the ante. “What about another drink?”
He raises me a Jackson and wins the pot.
“Let me tell you about art,” focused now
and leaning forward, “one minute you’re a genius.
The next you’re taking out the garbage.
It’s all the same to me. Either way,
you end up smelling of week-old sausages.”